THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 


From  the  eol lection  of 
Julius  Doerner,  Chicago 
Purchased,  1918. 

808.1 

W331 


The  person  charging  this  material  is  re- 
sponsible for  its  return  on  or  before  the 
Latest  Date  stamped  below. 

Theft,  mutilation,  and  underlining  of  books 
are  reasons  for  disciplinary  action  and  may 
result  in  dismissal  from  the  University. 

University  of  Illinois  Library 


0C7 


L161— 0-1096 


l\--  .-/v 


h ^ ' 


b v ' 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign  Alternates 


https://archive.org/details/dictionaryofpoet00wats_0 


DiCi:iX)ISlAliY 


OF 

Poetical  Quotations; 

CONSISTING  OF 


COMPILED  FROM  VARIOUS  AUTPIORS, 


ANI> 

AEBANGED  UKDEK  APPROPEIATE  IIFAD^’, 
BY 

JOHN  T,  WATSON,  M.D. 


PORTER  & COATES 
PHIL  A DEL  nil  A, 


OOFYKIGIIT, 


1879,  BY 


i'DliXER  & COATES. 


/ 


PREFACE. 


m this  book-making  age,  various  are  the  causes  which  have  inJuced  men 
:g  become  authors.  With  some,  chill  Penury  has  been  the  only  stimulus; 
with  others,  Ambition,  that  spur  to  great  and  noble  deeds  as  well  as  vices, 
has  been  the  cnief  excitant.  Some  have  been  influenced  by  true  Benevolence, 
ind  a sincere  wish  to  ameliorate  the  condition  of  mankind ; while  others  have 
written  to  gratify  rapacious  Avarice  or  fell  Revenge.  Science,  with  its  occult 
ruths,  and  the  wonderful  and  gratifying  disclosures  it  makes  to  its  followers, 
has  produced  many  authors;  and  another  and  quite  numeiO”iS  class  has  been 
generated  by  pure  Ennui — an  intolerable  weariness  at  having  nothing  to  do. 

None  of  these  potent  causes  has  exercised  much  influence  in  the  conception 
and  execution  of  this  Work:  it  may  be  said  to  have  been  the  result  of  mere 
accideni—an  agent  not  less  observable  in  many  of  the  actions  of  men  than 
those  above  enumerated.  The  task  of  making  the  following  collection  was 
commenced  four  or  five  years  ago,  but  without  any  view  to  puolication  ; and  it 
was  not  until  the  pages  hud  accumulated  so  as  to  assume  somewhat  of  a book- 
like appearance,  that  the  resolution  to  print  them  was  adopted ; a resolution 
which  has  been  considerably  influenced  and  encouraged  by  the  consideration, 
that  there  is  a necessity  and  a demand  for  such  a book  at  this  time. 

To  the  editor,  tne  author,  and  the  public  speaker,  it  is  believed  that  a great 
convenience  will  hereby  be  aflbrded,;  tor  nothing  adorns  a composition  or  a 
speech  more  than  appropriate  — endorsing,  as  it  were,  our  own 

sentiments  with  the  sanction  of  other  minds — unless  the  habit  of  quoting  is 
loo  often  indulged,  when  it  degenerates  into  pedantry,  and  becomes  unpleasiug, 
[t  is  hoped,  too,  that  the  general  reader,  at  least  every  lover  of  Poetry, 
here  find  much  to  instruct  and  amuse.  And  who,  that  has  feeling,  is  ne  t • 
lover  of  Poetry?  Who  can  listen  to  the  dear,  dear  witchery  of  song,”  no’ 
feel  that  it  is  the  very  language  of  Nature  herself?  Coming  as  it  does  from 
the  heart,  it  appeals  directly  to  the  hearts  of  others,  and  seems  to  take  the 
fariry  and  the  feelings  captive  unawares.  So  universal  is  its  influence,  and  so 
comprehensive  its  scope,  that  there  is  scarcely  a theme  within  the  range  ol 
the  imagination,  from  the  sublime  .conceptions  of  Milton  and  Dante  to  the 
ridiculous  an  i common-place  subjects  of  Butler’s  verse,  which  may  not  b« 
ippropriately  '-^ung  '‘in  liquid  lines  rnellifluously  bland.” 

iii 


692378 


IV 


PREFACE 


Tt  will  Of*  perceived  that  a great  number  of  authors  are  lieie  <|i  jtcd.  R;iton 
nve  I braries,  not  accessible  to  the  great  mass  of  readers,  have  been  ransacked 
and  many  volumes  have  been  read  simply  for  the  purpose  of  plu(  king  semf 
I*  liieir  sweet  flowers  from  the  native  wildwood  in  which  we  find  them  sur 
rounded  and  almost  obscured  by  weeds  and  thistles,  and  transjilanting  then 
to  bloom  in  this  little  parterre.  The  Extracts,  with  few  exceptions,  have  beer 
arranged  in  chronological  order,  extending  from  the  days  of  the  earliest 
English  poets  to  the  present  time,  and  embracing  many  passages  from  tin 
poetry  of  America. 

Perhaps  an  apology  is  due  from  the  author  for  having  inserted  some  of  hia 
own  efTusions  in  this  collection.  In  some  instances,  pieces  have  been  com- 
posed by  him  to  illustrate  a subject  in  a manner  diflferent  from  those  that 
preceded  them;  in  others,  they  have  been  inserted  simply  to  fill  a vacant 
corner;  and  in  others,  because  they  were  already  written,  and  it  was  thought 
they  would  at  least  do  no  injury,  and  might  possibly  serve  to  render  more 
apparent  the  beauty  of  others,  by  contrast,  as  the  brightest  stars  in  the  firma- 
ment seem  more  brilliant  when  compared  with  the  small  twinklers  that 
surround  them.  Another  motive  for  this  temerity, — and  this  is  not  the  least 
just,  if  not  the  most  satisfactory,  of  those  that  might  be  urged, — may  perhaps 
be  traced  to  that  ubiquitous  principle,  vanitas  scriptorum,  and  to  its  offspring, 
which  Byron  exhibited  to  his  Reviewers,  w'hen  he  wrote  in  extenuation  of  his 
ofifence — 

‘’Ti.s  pleasant,  sure,  to  see  one’s  name  in  print ; 

A book ’s  a book,  although  there ’s  nothing  in  ’f  ” 

To  the  compilation  and  classification  of  the  following  Extracts  much  Unit 
and  labor  have  been  devoted.  Still  the  critical  reader  will  doubtless  find  many 
imperfections,  both  in  the  plan  and  execution  of  the  work,  which  can  scarcely 
be  excused  by  the  fact'  of  its  having  been  prepared  for  the  press  amidst  the 
continuous  and  exacting  calls  of  professional  studies.  But,  tedious  and  even 
perplexing  as  the  task  has  often  been  in  its  details,  on  the  w hole  it  has  proved 
t labor  of  love,  to  collect  into  one  casket  what  were  “ like  orient  pearls  at 
random  strung  ;”  and,  such  as  the  book  is,  the  compiler  w'ould  fain  present 
it  to  its  readers  as  a variegated  bouquet,  culled  from  the  many  gardens  tha,'' 
diversify  and  adorn  the  extensive  fields  of  English  and  American  Poetry. 


J.  T.  W. 


TA.BLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


A. 

Birth 

M'«erico  

Blacksmith  

Action 

13 

Blindness 

Activity 

14 

Blush 

Actors 

15 

Boasting 

Adieu  

Book 

Adversity  

21 

Bravery 

Advice 

25 

Brevity 

Aftectioii 

26 

Bribery 

Age 

28 

Brute  

Ambition 

Building 

Ancestry 

33 

Anger 

35 

C. 

Animal 

38 

Calumny 

Antiquary 

40 

Candor 

Apparel 

41 

Care 

Appearance , 

Caution 

Appetite 

47 

Celibacy 

Applause 

49 

Ceremony 

Architecture 

51 

Chance 

Aigument 

51 

Change 

Artifice 

Character 

Assassination 

55 

Charity . . 

Associates 

Chastity  

Astonishment 

57 

Cheerfulness 

Aiuhors 

58 

Childhood 

Autumn 

Chivalry 

Avarice 

63 

Church 

Cigar 

B. 

Clergy 

Ball 

Cloud 

Banishment 

Company 

Banner  

Compassion  . 

Bashfulness 

Concealment . . - 

B.ittle 

Confession 

beast 

Confidence 

Beauty 

Conscience 

Beggar  

Consent 

Betting 

Constancy 

Bieotrv 

Contemplation 

birds  . * . . 

Contempt  ...  

89 

89 

90 

91 

91 

92 

95 

143 

63 

38 

57 

99 

102 

102 

105 

106 

108 

108 

110 

112 

114 

106 

115 

119 

122 

123 

124 

123 

125 

56 

281 

126 

128 

129 

129 

134 

135 

139 

140 


V 


vi  CONTENTS. 


Contentment 141 

Conversation 143 

Coquette 146 

Country 147 

Country  Life 470 

Courage 95 

Courtier 151 

Courtship 153 

Cowardice 157 

Credulity 159 

Criticism 160 

Critics 160 

Cruelty 163 

Curiosity 165 

Curses 166 

Custom 167 

D. 

Di^ncing 65 

Danger 168 

Day 169 

Death 173 

Decay 178 

Deceit 179 

Declaration 182 

Defiance 183 

Delay 184 

Delicacy 185  i 

Design 186  : 

Despair 186  | 

Destiny 189  j 

Destruction 190  > 

Determination 191  j 

Detraction 192 

Dinner 47  | 

Disappointment 192 

Discontent 141 

Discretion 105 

Disease 196  | 

Dishonesty 199  | 

Dis  pleasure 199  i 

Disposition 112  | 

Dissension 201 

Distance 201  | 

Domestic  Affairs 202 

Doubt 159  I 

Drama 15 

Dreams 204  I 


Dress .....  41 

Drinking 207 

Drunkenness 207 

Duty 129 

E. 

Eating .47 

Echo 212 

Ecstasy 212 

Education 213 

Egotism 217 

Elegance 218 

Eloquence 219 

Embrace 222 

Emigration 225 

Emulation 30 

Enemy 226 

Engagement 228 

Enjoyment 229 

Enterprise 14 

Enthusiasm 233 

Envy 99 

Equality 234 

Error 235 

Esteem 236 

Eternity 237 

Etiquette 238 

Evening 169 

Exarnfde 239 

Excellence 240 

Excess 207 

Execution 243 

Exercise 244 

Exile 68 

Expectation 245 

Experience 246 

Extravagance 247 

Extremes 247 

Eyes 248 

F. 

Fairies 252 

Faith 254 

Falsehood 255 

Fame 258 

Fancy 260 

Farewell 17 

Farmer 93 


CONTENTS 


VI 


Fashion 

Fate 

Father 

Favor 

Fear 

Feasting 

Features 

Feeling 

Festivity 

Fickleness 

Fighting 

Firmness 

Fishing 

Flag 

Flattery 

Flowers 

Folly 

Fools 

Forgetfulness 

Forget  Me  Not  . . . . 

Forgiveness 

Fortitude 

Fortune 

Frankness 

Freedom  ^ 

Friendship 

Fruits 

Funeral 

Futurity 

G. 

Gambling 

Genius . 

Gentleman 

(rhost 

Gloom 

(f  lory 

(iluttony 

God 

Gold 

Gossip  

(jraee 

Gratitude 

Grave 

Greatness. 

Grief 

Guilt 


H 

Habit 167 

Hair. 248 

Hap[)iness 229 

Hatred 226 

Health 196 

Heart 316 

Heaven 318 

Hell 318 

Hermit 319 

History 322 

Home  202 

Honesty 323 

Honor 323 

Hope 325 

Horse 328 

Humility 329 

Hunger 47 

Hunting 268 

Hy()ocrisy 179 

L 

Idleness 330 

Ignorance 333 

Imagination 260 

Immortality 334 

Impatience 336 

Imprisonment 337 

Impudence 339 

Incredulity 159 

Indian 340 

Indifference 341 

Indigence 342 

Industry 330 

Ingenuousness 284 

Ingratitude  305 

Injury 345 

Injustice 346 

Innocence  347 

Insect 348 

Instinct 350 

Intellect 293 

Intention 186 

J. 

Jail 337 

Jealousy - 352 


41 

189 

263 

265 

157 

47 

248 

266 

207 

268 

72 

191 

268 

69 

272 

275 

277 

277 

279 

280 

281 

95 

108 

284 

284 

287 

275 

291 

237 

83 

293 

294 

295 

102 

30 

207 

297 

299 

303 

304 

305 

173 

306 

310 

314 


CONTENTS 


viii 

loy 

lustico 

K. 

Kindness 

• Kings 

Kiss 

L. 

Laughter 

law 

[lawyers 

[.earning  . , 

[jetlers 

Liberty 

Idfe 

Lips 

Loquacity 

Love 

Lust 

Luxury  

M. 

Madness 

Maledictions 

Malice 

Man 

Matrimony  

Mechanic 

Medicine 

Meekness 

Meeting 

Melancholy 

Memory 

Mercy 

Merit 

Mildness 

Mind 

Mirth 

M Isa  nth  ropy 

Miser 

Misery 

Misfortune 

Mob 

McJcsty 

Money 

Moon 

Morning 

Mother 


Mr)untain 4|| 

Mourning 2i)i 

Murder 

Music 413 

N. 

Name 4jy 

Nature 413 

Necessity i^ry 

Neglect 420 

News 422 

Newspaper  [)2 

Ni{?ht IGO 

Nohility 33 

Notoriety 258 

Novels 423 

Novelty 424 

Nun 310 

O. 

Oaths 424 

Obituary 425 

Oblivion 279 

Obstinacy 428 

Ocean 429 

Ortence 43I 

Office 432 

Old  Age 28 

Opinion 433 

Opportunity  434 

Oppression 435 

Orator 219 

Order 437 

P. 

Pain 437 

Painting 433 

Parasite 151 

Parents 263 

Parting 17 

Passions 439 

Patience 336 

Patriotism 147 

Peace 443 

Peasant 91 

Pedigree 33 

Perfection 444 

Peril 168 

I Perseverance  330 


229 

346 

354 

856 

222 

115 

359 

359 

213 

361 

284 

362 

248 

143 

366 

379 

381 

383 

166 

226 

384 

389 

91 

196 

393 

394 

102 

395 

281 

240 

393 

400 

115 

403 

63 

404 

21 

408 

70 

299 

410 

169 

263 


Philanthropy 

Philosophy  

Phrenology 

Physician 

Pity 

Pleasure 

Poetry 

Politeness 

Politics 

Popularity 

Portrait 

Poverty 

Power 

Praise 

Prayer  . 

Preferment 

Press 

Presumption 

Pride 

Prison 

Prisoner 

Procrastination  . . . 

Proposal 

Prosperity 

Providence 

Prudence 

Punishment 

Purity 

Q. 

Quacks 

R. 

Rabhle 

Rage 

Rainbow 

Reason 

Recall  

Reciprocity 

Reconciliation  .... 

Refinement 

Reflection 

Refusal «... 

Religion 

Remembrance  .... 

Remorse  

Repentance 

Report . 


Reproof 465 

Reputation H2 

Resolution 191 

Retirement 319 

Reward 465 

Revenge • 466 

Ridicule 467 

Right 346 

Rivers 468 

Rogue 199 

Romance 423 

Royalty 356 

Rudeness  238 

Ruin 190 

Rumor 464 

Rural  Scenes 469 

S. 

Sabbath 471 

Sadness 102 

Safety 472 

Sailing 472 

Sailor 478 

Satiety 474 

Satire 475 

Savage 340 

Scandal 303 

Scenery 476 

Scepticism 476 

School 477 

Science 213 

Sea 429 

Season 59 

Secresv 126 

Self  . : 217 

Senses 350 

Sensibility 266 

Sensitiveness 478 

Separation 11 

Servility 479 

Shame 467 

Ship 472 

Silence 480 

Simplicity 480 

Singing 413 

Slander  99 

Slavery 479 

Sleep 204 


354 

445 

446 

196 

281 

229 

447 

238 

452 

49 

438 

342 

306 

272 

453 

456 

92 

456 

457 

337 

337 

184 

182 

229 

297 

105 

459 

347 

196 

408 

35 

459 

400 

460 

461 

461 

462 

139 

462 

453 

395 

463 

463 

464 


X 


CONTENTS 


flight 

Smile 

Smoking 

Society  

Solitude 

Song 

Sophistry 

Sorrow 

Soul 

Splendor 

Spring 

Sport 

Stars 

Statesman 

Station 

Storm 

Stubbornness 

Style 

Suicide 

Summer 

Sun 

Superiority 

Superstition 

Surfeit 

Surprise 

Suspense 

Suspicion 

Swearing 

Sycophant 

Sympathy  . 

T. 

Talent 

Taste 

Teacher 

Tears 

Temper 

Temperance 

Teniptation 

Theatre 

Thief 

Thirst 

Thought 

I'ime 

Timidity 

I'ltles 

Token . 

rwrture 


7'own  and  Country 4(59 

Transport 212 

Traveller 491 

IVeachery ....  , 492 

Treason 49;} 

Triumph 49;^ 

Truth 255 

Twilight KPJ 

Tyranny 435 

?T 

Unanimity.  . 494 

Unbelief 476 

V. 

Vanity 457 

Variety 495 

Vengeance 466 

Vice 814 

Vicissitude 110 

Victory 493 

Virtue 453 

V\. 

Want 344 

War 72 

Wealth 299 

Weather 125 

Wedlock 389 

Weeping 310 

Widow 291 

Wife 496 

Wine 208 

Winter 59 

Wisdom 213 

Wit 213 

Witches 498 

Woman 499 

Wonder 502 

Words 502 

World 503 

Worth 240 

Writers 58 

Wrong 345 

Y. 

Youth 119 

Z. 

Zeal 233 


420 

115 

124 

56 

319 

413 

51 

404 

334 

482 

59 

268 

410 

483 

33 

125 

428 

160 

484 

59 

410 

234 

295 

474 

57 

245 

352 

424 

272 

486 

293 

160 

477 

310 

35 

207 

487 

15 

199 

488 

400 

488 

490 

33 

d90 

163 


POKTICAL  aUOTATIONS. 


ABSENCE. 

Though  absent,  present  in  desires  they  be ; 

Our  souls  much  further  than  our  eyes  can  see. 

Drayton. 

Absence  not  long  enough  to  root  out  quite 
All  love,  increases  love  at  second  sight. 

T.  Mav 

Every  moment 

I’m  from  thy  sight,  the  heart  within  my  bosom 
Moans  like  a tender  infant  in  its  cradle, 

Whose  nurse  has  left  it. 

Otway’s  Venice  Preserved, 
There ’s  not  an  hour 

Of  day  or  dreaming  nights  but  I am  with  thee : 

There ’s  not  a wind  but  whispers  of  thy  name,  ^ 

And  not  a flower  that  sleeps  beneath  the  moon 

But  in  its  hues  or  fragranc  3 tells  a tale 

Of  th(;e.  Proctor’s  Mirandula 

What  tender  strains  of  passion  can  impart 

The  pano-s  of  absence  to  an  amorous  heart ! 

Far,  far  too  faint  the  powers  of  language  prove, 
language,  that  slow  interpreter  of  love  1 
Souls  paired  like  ours,  like  ours  to  union  wrought, 
Converse  by  silent  sympathy  of  thought. 

Pattison 

11 


12 


ARSENCF 


When  I ihuik  of  my  own  native  land. 

In  a me  merit  1 s('em  to  be  there; 

But  alas  ! recollection  at  hand 

Soon  hurries  me  back  to  despair! 

Covi  f‘ER. 

Nor  wife,  nor  children,  more  shall  he  behrlrl, 

Nor  fiiends,  nor  sacred  home. 

Ihomsom 

Thjnic’sl  thou  that.  I could  bear  to  part 

From  thee,  and  learn  to  hal/e  rny  heart? 

Years  have  not  seen,  time  shall  not  see 

The  nour  that  tears  my  soul  from  thee. 

Byron’s  Bruit  oj 

Far  I go  where  fate  may  lead  me, 

Far  across  the  troubled  deep  ; 

Where  no  stranger’s  ear  shall  heed  me, 

Where  no  eye  for  me  shall  weep. 

Tho’  fate,  my  girl,  may  bid  us  part. 

The  soul  ii  cannot,  cannot  sever ; 

The  heart  will  seek  its  kindred  heart, 

And  ckng  to  it  as  close  as  ever. 

T.  Moore 

And  canst  thou  think,  because  we  part 
Till  some  brief  months  have  flown, 

That  absence  e’er  can  change  a heart 
Which  years  have  made  thine  own  ? 

’T  is  hard  to  be  parted  from  those 

With  whom  we  for  ever  could  dwell; 

But  bitter  indeed  is  the  sorrow  that  flows. 

When  perhaps  we  are  saying  farewell — forever  ! 

Mrs.  Opie 

When  absent  from  her  whom  my  soul  holds  most  dear, 
What  a medley  of  passions  invade  1 

tn  this  bosom  what  anguish,  what- hope,  and  what  fear, 

I endure  for  my  beautiful  maid  ! 


Braham. 


ACTION 


13 


vVhen  far  frorr  thee  I hide, 

In  dreams  stil:  at  my  side 
I ’ve  talk’d  to  thee ; 

A ad  when  I woke,  I sigh’d 
Myself  alone  to  see. 

From  the  German  — Taylor. 
We  must  part  awhile; 

A few  short  months — tho’  short,  they  will  be  long 
Without  thy  dear  society  : but  yet 
We  must  endure  it,  and  our  love  will  be 
The  fonder  after  parting — it  will  grow 
Intenser  in  our  absence,  and  again 
Burn  with  a tender  glow  when  I return. 

James  G.  Percivai.. 

Oh  Absence  ! by  thy  stern  decree. 

How  many  a heart,  once  light  and  free, 

Is  fill’d  with  doubts  and  fears  ! 

Thy  days  like  tedious  weeks  do  seem, 

Thy  weeks  slow-moving  months  we  deem, 

Thy  months,  long-lingering  years  ! 

J.  T.  W atson. 


ACTION. 

Whilst  timorous  knowledge  stands  considering. 
Audacious  ignorance  hath  done  the  deed  ; 

For  who  knows  most,  the  most  he  knows  to- doubt: 

The  least  discourse  is  commonly  most  stout 

DanieIw 

Gool  actions  crown  themselves  with  lasting  Days; 

Who  weL  deserves  needs  not  another’s  praise. 

Heai  m 

I?  ttiou  dost  ill,  the  joy  fades,  not  the  pains ; 

[f  well,  the  fjain  doth  fade,—  the  joy  remains. 

Gl.  Herbert. 


4 


ACTIVITY  - ENTERPRISE 


The  body  sins  not ; ’t  is  the  will 
That  makes  the  action  good  or  ill. 

ITERRa  K 

Onr  unsteady  actions  cannot  be 
Manag’d  by  rules  of  strict  philosophy. 

Sir  R.  IJowARiy 


ACTIVITY—  ENTERPRISE. 


If  it  were  done,  when ’t  is  done,  then,  ’t  is  well 
That  it  were  done  quickly. 

SlIAKSPrARK. 

Wise  men  ne’er  sit  and  wail  their  loss, 

But  cheerly  seek  how  to  redress  their  harm. 

SnAKSriiARi:. 


Let ’s  take  the  instant  by  the  forward  top ; 

For  we  are  old,  and  on  our  quick’st  decrees 
The  inaudible  and  noiseless  foot  of  time 
Steals,  ere  we  can  effect  them. 

Shakspearc. 


How  slow  the  time 

To  the  warm  soul,  that,  in  the  very  instant 
It  forms,  would  execute  a great  design  ! 

Thomson 


The  keen  spirit 

Seizes  the  prompt  occasion, — makes  the  thoughts 
Start  into  instant  action,  and  at  once 
14ans  and  performs,  'esolves  and  executes  ! 

Hannah  Morh 


My  days,  though  few,  have  pass’d  below 
In  much  of  joy,  though  much  of  woe; 
Vet  still,  in  hours  of  love  or  strife, 

I ’ve  ’scap’d  the  weariness  of  life. 


Byron’s  Gtaoui. 


ACTORS  - DRAMA  - Til  EATRE. 


1 


Act!  for  in  action  are  wisdom  and  glory; 

Fame,  immortality — these  are  its  crown ; 
ould’st  thou  illumine  the  tablets  of  story  ? — 

Build  on  achievements  thy  doom^  of  renown. 

From  the  German. 

Seize,  mortals,  seize  the  transient  hour : 

Improve  each  moment  as  it  flies : 

Life’s  a short  summer  — man  a flower; 

He  dies  — alas  ! — how  soon  he  dies  ! 


Let  us  then  be  up  and  doing, 

With  a heart  for  every  fate; 

Still  achieving,  still  pursuing. 

Learn  to  labour  and  to  wait. 

Henry  W.  Longfellow. 


ACTORS  — DRAMA  — THEATRE. 

Look  to  the  players  ; see  them  well  bestow’d : 

They  are  the  abstract  and  brief  chroniclers  of  the  times. 

Shakspearic, 

They  say  we  live  by  vice  ; indeed  ’tis  true ; 

As  the  physicians  by  diseases  do. 

Only  tc  cure  them  Randolph. 

Boldly  f dare  say 

There  has  been  more  by  us  in  some  one  play 
Laugh  d into  wit  and  virtue,  than  hath  been 
By  twenty  tedious  lectures  drawn  from  sin. 

And  foppish  humours;  hence  the  cause  doth  rise, 

Men  are  not  won  by  th’  ears,  so  well  as  eyes. 


Randolph. 


If) 


ACrrORS  - DRAMA  - TDEATRE. 


When,  with  mock  majesty  and  fancied  power, 

Tie  struts  in  robes,  the  monarch  of  an  hour; 

Oft  wide  of  nature  must  he  act  a part, 

Make  love  in  tropes,  in  bornUast  break  his  heart ; 
in  turn  and  simile  resign  his  breath, 

And  rhyme  and  quibble  in  the  pains  of  death. 

IX 

\\  hose  every  look  and  gesture  was  a joke 
1 o clapping  theatres,  and  shouting  crowds, 

And  made  even  tliick-li]:)pkl,  musing  melancholy 

I'o  gather  up  her  face  into  a smile 

Before  she  was  aware.  Blair’s  Gravi* 

What  we  hear 

With  weaker  passion  will  affect  the  heart. 

Than  when  the  faithful  eye  beholds  the  part. 

Francis’  Hornet, 

Lo,  where  the  stage,  the  poor,  degraded  stage. 

Holds  its  warp’d  mirror  to  a gaping  age  ; 

There,  where  to  raise  the  Drama’s  moral  tone. 

Fool  Harlequin  usurps  Apollo’s  throne. 

« Sprague’s  Curiosity, 

Where  one  base  scene  shall  turn  more  souls  to  shame. 
Than  ten  of  Channing’s  Lectures  can  reclaim. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity. 

Whore  mincing  dancers  sport  tight  pantalets. 

And  turn  fops’  heads  while  turning  pirouettes. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity. 

And  turn  from  gentle  Juliet’s  woe. 

To  couni  tJie  twirls  of  Fanny  Elssler’s  t04\ 

SpRAt  he’s  Ciiriomy 


ADIEU  ~ FAREWELL- PARTING. 


17 


ADIEU  — FAREWELL  — PARTING. 


U itn  thii:,  wringing  my  hand  he  turn’d  jaway, 

And  though  his  tears  would  hardly  let  him  look, 

Vet  such  a look  did  through  his  tears  make  way, 

As  show’d  how  sad  a farewell  there  he  took. 

Daniel, 


I part  with  thee 

As  wretches,  that  are  doubtful  of  hereafter, 

Part  with  their  lives,  unwilling,  loath  and  fearfu.. 

And  trembling  at  futurity.  Rowe 


Then  came  the  parting  hour,  and  what  arise 
When  lovers  part — expressive  looks,  and  eyes 
Tender  and  tearful — many  a fond  adieu, 

And  many  a call  the  sorrow  to  renew. 

Crabbe’s  HalL 


were  vain  to  speak,  to  weep,  to  sigh ; 

Oh ! more  than  tears  of  blood  can  tell, 

When  wrung  from  guilt’s  expiring  eye, 

Are  in  that  word,  farewell — -farewell ! 

Byuon. 

Farewell ! — a word  that  hath  been  and  must  be, 

A sound  that  makes  us  linger- — yet,  farewell ! 

Byron’s  Childe  Haroiii 
l^t’s  not  unman  each  other — part  at  once ; 

All  farewelVs  should  be  sudden,  when  for  ever, 

Else  they  make  an  eternity  of  moments, 

And  clog  the  last  sad  sands  of  life  with  tears. 

Byron’s  Sardanapalu^, 
One  struggle  more,  and  1 am  free 

From  pangs  that  rend  my  heart  in  twain; 

One  last  long  sigh  to  love  and  thee, 

Tlien  back  to  busy  life  again. 


2 


Byron. 


18 


ADlEr  ~ FAR  EWELL  - FAIH  L\(L 


Then  fare  thee  well,  deceitful  maid, 

’Twere  vain  and  fooliiih  to  refrrel  thee; 

■iX  . ^ 

^ Nor  hope  nor  memory  yield  their  aid, 

PiUt  time  may  teach  me  to  forget  thee. 

Bvaok 

But  now  the  moments  brintr 

o 

riie  ..me  of  parting,  with  redoubled  wing; 

The  why — the  where — what  boots  it  now  to  tell  ? 

Since  all  must  end  in  that  wild  word,  farewell  ! 

Byron’s  Ccr^sair 

Fare  thee  well ! 3"et  think  awhile 

On  one  whose  bosom  bleeds  to  doubt  thee ; 

Who  now  would  rather  trust  that  smile. 

And  die  with  thee,  than  live  without  thee  I 

Moore, 

With  all  my  soul,  then  let  us  part. 

Since  both  are  anxious  to  be  free ; 

And  I will  send  you  home  jmur  heart, 

If  you  will  send  back  mine  to  me  1 

Moore. 

Well — peace  to  thy  heart,  tho’  another’s  it  be  ; 

And  health  to  thy  cheek,  tho’  it  bloom  not  for  me. 

Moore. 

Enough  that  we  are  parted — that  there  rolls 
A flood  of  headlong  fate  between  our  souls, 

Yv^hose  darkness  severs  me  as  wide  from  thee 
As  hell  from  heaven,  to  all  eternity  ! 

Moore’s  ^ aUa  Rookh. 

Go,  thoi.  vision  wildly  gleaming. 

Softly  on  my  soul  that  fell ; 

Go.  br  me  no  longer  beaming, 

[lope  and  beauty,  fare  thee  welh 

V^’anish’d,  like  dew-drops  from  the  spray, 

Are  mornents  v/hich  in  beauty  flew. 


ADIEU  - FAREWELl.  - PAin  iNi;. 


19 


I cast  life's  brightest  pearl  away, 

And,  false  one,  breathe  my  last  adieu 

W.  G.  Clakk 

Farewell,  oh,  farewell!  thou  hast  broken  the  chain, 

And  the  links,  that  have  bound  us,  are  parted  in  twain 

But  long  shall  my  heart  in  its  sad  sorrow  tell 

How  I grieved  o’er  thee,  dear  one  I — farewell,  oh,  fare  we  i 

Mrs.  C.  H.  W Esling. 

One  hurried  kiss — one  last,  one  long  embrace — 

One  yearning  look  upon  her  tearful  face — 

And  he  was  gone,  and,  like  a funeral  knell. 

The  winds  still  sigh’d — beloved,  fare  thee  well  1 

Mrs.  C.  H.  W.  Esling. 

We  parted  in  sadness,  but  spoke  not  of  parting; 

We  talk’d  not  of  hopes  that  we  both  must  resign ; 

I saw  not  her  eyes,  and  but  one  tear-drop  starting 
Fell  down  on  her  hand  as  it  trembled  in  mine. 

Each  felt  that  the  past  we  could  never  recover. 

Each  felt  that  the  future  no  hope  could  restore ; 

She  shudder’d  at  wringing  the  heart  of  her  lover, 

1 dared  not  to  say  I must  meet  her  no  more. 

Charles  Fenno  Hoffman 

Farewell,  then,  thou  loved  one — O,  loved  but  too  well. 

Too  deeply,  too  blindly  for  language  to  tell ! 

Farewell — thou  hast  trampled  love’s  faith  in  the  dust, 

Thou  hast  torn  from  my  bosom  its  hope  and  its  truss, ; 

Yet,  if  thy  life’s  current  with  bliss  it  would  swell, 

[ would,  pour  out  my  own  in  this  last  fond  farewell ! 

Charles  Fenno  Hoffman 

We  part — no  matter  how  we  part; 

There  are  some  thoughts  we  utter  not ; ^ 

Deep  treasured  in  our  inmost  heart. 

Never  reveal’d,  and  ne’er  forgot 

Richard  Henry  W ilde. 


20 


ADIEU-  FAREWIil.I,-  PARTING’ 


And  now  farewell ! farewell ! — I dare  not  lengthen 
These  sweet,  sad  moments  out : to  gaze  on 
Is  bliss  indeed,  yet  it  but  serves  to  strengthen 
The  love  that  now  amounts  to  agony : 

This  is  our  last  farevvadl — our  last  fond  meeting; 

The  world  is  wide,  and  we  must  dwell  apait ; 

'My  spirit  gives  thee  non  its  last  fond  greeting, 

With  lip  to  lip,  while  pulse  to  pulse  is  beating, 

And  heart  to  heart.  Mrs.  A.  B.  Wilbi 

r heard  thy  low  whisper’d  farewell,  love. 

And  silently  saw  thee  depart — 

Ay,  silent — for  how  could  words  tell,  love, 

The  sorrow  that  swell’d  in  my  heart? 

Yet,  tearless  and  mute  though  I stood,  love. 

Thy  last  words  are  thrilling  me  yet. 

And  my  heart  would  have  breathed,  if  it  could,  love. 

And  murmur’d — “ O ! do  not  forget  !” 

Mrs.  Frances  Osgoob 
Where’er  I go,  whate’er  my  lonely  state. 

Yet  grateful  memory  shall  linger  here. 

And  when,  perhaps,  you’re  musing  o'er  my  fate, 

You  still  may  greet  me  with  a tender  tear; 

Ah  ! then,  forgive  me — pitied  let  mie  part, 

Your  frowns,  too  sure,  would  break  my  sintcing  heart. 

Wc  met  ere  yet  the  world  had  come 
To  wither  u})  the  springs  of  youth ; 

Amid  the  holy  joys  of  home. 

And  in  the  first  warm  blush  of  youth 
We  parted,  as  they  never  part 
Whose  tears  are  doom’d  to  be  forgot ; 

Oh  by  that  agony  of  heart. 

Forget  me  not — forget  me  not ! 

'T  was  bitter  then  to  rend  the  heart 
With  the  sad  word  that  we  must  part 


ADVERSITY  - MISFORTUNE 


21 


And,  like  some  low  and  mournful  speU, 

To  whisper  but  one  word — farewell ! 

Park  BfcMAr«MiN 

Life  hath  as  many  farewells 
As  it  hath  sunny  hours, 

And  over  some  are  scatter’d  thorns 

And  over  others,  flowers.  Mrs.  L.  P Smith. 

And  now,  fiiir  ladies,  one  and  all,  adieu, 

Good  luck,  good  husbands,  and  good  bye  to  you  1 

J.  T.  Watson 

But  O ! whate’er  rny  fate  may  be. 

And  time  alone  that  tale  can  tell, 

May  you  be  happy,  blest,  and  free 
From  every  ill ! Lady,  farewell ! 

) T.  Watson. 


ADVERSITY  — MISFORTUNE. 

So  do  the  winds  and  thunder  cleanse  the  air. 

So  working  bees  settle  and  purge  the  wine : 

So  lopp’d  and  pruned  trees  do  flourish  fair ; 

So  doth  the  fire  the  drossy  gold  refine. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Qmeu. 
’T  is  oarbarous  to  insult  a fallen  foe. 

SoMERVULls 

Adversity,  sage  useful  guest,  ’ 

Severe  instructor,  but  the  best. 

It  is  from  thee  alone  we  know 
Justly  to  value  things  below. 

SOMERVII  £ 

A wretched  soul,  bruis’d  with  adversity, 

We  bid  be  quiet  when  we  hear  it  cry ; 

But  were  we  burthen’d  with  like  weight  of  pain, 

As  much  or  more  we  should  ourselves  corn[)lain. 

SllAKSPRARm. 


22 


\DVETiSITY  - MLSFORTriNE 


’T  is  Ji'trange  how  mari}^  unimagin’d  charges 
Can  swarm  upon  a man,  when  once  the  lid 
Of  the  Pandora  box  of  contumely 

Is  open’d  o’er  his  head.  SuAKSPEAra 

Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adversity, 

Which,  like  a toad,  ugly  and  venomous, 

Wears  yet  a precious  jewel  in  his  head. 

Shakspea^e 

I am  not  now  in  fortune’s  power  ; 

He  that  is  down  can  sink  no  lower. 

Butler’s  Jludihras 


Heaven  but  tries  our  virtue  by  affliction  ; 

As  oft  the  cloud  that  wra})s  the  present  lioui 
Serves  but  to  lighten  all  our  future  days. 

Brown 


I will  bear  it 

With  all  the  tender  sufferance  of  a friend, 

As  calmly  as  the  wounded  patient  bears 
The  artist’s  hand  that  ministers  his  cure. 

Otway’s  Orphan, 

Deserted  in  his  utmost  need 
By  those  his  former  bounty  fed. 

Dryden. 


Affliction  is  the  wholesome. soil  of  virtue; 

Where  patience,  honour,  sweet  humanity, 

Cairn  fortitude,  take  root  and  strongly  flourish. 

Mali.i’.t. 


Affliction  is  the  good  man’s  shining  scene  ; 

Prosperity  conceals  his  brightest  ray ; 

As  night  to  stars,  woe  lustre  gives  to  man. 

Young’s  Night  Thotfghls 
Misfortune  does  not  always  wail  on  vice  ; 

Nor  is  success  the  consianl  oufst  of  virtue. 

Hav.a  rd. 


I pray  the(%  deal  with  men  in  misery, 
Like  one  wlio  may  hirnsidf  be  miserable. 


Heywoos*. 


aDV  EK  S I T Y - M 1 SFORTUNE. 


23 


fn  this  wild  worla  the  fondest  and  the  best 
Are  the  most  tried,  most  troubled  and  distress^. 

Craubk 

Aromatic  plants  bestow 

No  spicy  fragrance  while  they  grow; 

But,  crush’d  or  trodden  to  the  ground. 

Diffuse  their  balmy  sweets  around. 

Goi  nSMlTR. 

For  every  want,  that  stimulates  the  breast, 

Becomes  a source  of  pleasure  when  redrest. 

Goldsmith. 

Each  breast,  however  fortified, 

By  courage,  apathy,  or  pride, 

Has  still  one  secret  path  for  thee, 

Man’s  subtle  foe  — Adversity. 

Mrs.  Holford’s  Margaret  of  Anjou. 
The  good  are  better  made  by  ill. 

As  odours  crush’d  are  better  still. 

RoGEfUS. 

The  brave  unfortunates  are  our  best  acquaintance  ; 

They  show  us  virtue  may  be  much  distress’d, 

And  give  us  their  example  how  to  suffer. 

F RANCiS 

Though  losses  and  crosses 
Be  lessons  right  severe, 

There ’s  wit  there,  ye  ’ll  get  there, 

Ye’ll  find  nae  other  where. 

’T  was  thine  own  genius  ^ave  the  final  blow. 

And  help’d  to  plant  the  wound  that  laid  thee  low. 

So  the  struck  eagle,  stretch’d  upon  the  plain, 

No  more  through  rolling  clouds  to  soar  again,  , 

View’d  his  own  feather  on  the  fatal  dart. 

And  iving’d  the  shaft  that  quiver’d  in  his  heart. 

Keen  were  his  pangs,  but  keener  far  to  feel 
He  nurs’d  the  pinion  that  irnpell’d  the  steel  i 


24 


ADVERSITY  - MISFORTUNE. 


VVhile  the  same  plumage  that  had  warmed  his  nest, 
l^rank  the  last  life-drop  of  his  bleeding  breast. 

Byron’s  English  Bardu^ 

1 have  not  quail’d  to  danger’s  brow 
AVhen  high  and  happy — need  I now  ? 

Byron’s  ‘riaout. 

Of  Jill  the  horrid,  hideous  notes  of  woe, 

Sadder  than  owl-songs  on  the  midnight  blast, 

Is  that  portentous  phrase,  “/  fold  you  so,'*' 

Utter’d  by  friends,  those  prophets  of  the  past, 

Who  ’stead  of  saying  what  you  now  should  do, 

Own  they  foresaw  that  you  would  fall  at  last ; 

And  solace  your  slight  lapse  ’gainst  ^^honos  mores,  * 

V/ith  a Iona  memorandum  of  old  stories. 

<r 

Byron’s  Don  Juttfi, 

The  rugged  metal  of  the  mine 
Must  burn  before  its  surface  shine ; 

But,  plung’d  within  the  furnace  flame. 

It  bends  and  melts — tho’  still  the  same. 

Byron’s  Giaour, 

What  is  the  w’orst  of  woes  that  wait  on  age  ? 

What  stamps  the  wrinkle  deepest  on  the  brow? 

To  view  each  loved  one  blighted  from  life’s  page. 

And  be  alone  on  earth — as  1 am  now. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 
Prom  mighty  w’rongs  to  petty  perfidy. 

Have  I not  seen  what  human  things  could  do  ? 

From  the  loud  roar  of  foaming  calumn}’. 

To  the  small  w^hisper  of  the  as  paltry  few 
And  subtle  venom  of  the  reptile  crew^  ? 

Byron’s  Cliildt  Harnki, 

/ A hermit,  ’midst  of  crowds,  1 fain  must  stray 

Alone,  tho’  thousand  pilgrims  fill  the  w^ay  : 

While  these  a thousand  kindred  wreaths  entwine, 

I cannot  cull  one  single  blossom  mine. 


Bli  R4>JI1 


ADVICE. 


25 


The  blackest  ink  of  fate  was  sure  my  lot, 

And  when  fate  writ  my  name,  it  made  a blot. 

Alone  she  sate — alone  ! — that  worn-out  word, 

So  idly  spoken  and  so  coldly  heard  ; 

Yi‘\  all  that  poets  sing,  and  grief  hath  known. 

Of  hope  laid  w^ste,  knells  in  that  word — alone  1 

The  New  Tlmoru 

1 may  not  weep — I cannot  sigh, 

A weight  is  pressing  on  my  breast ; 

A breath  breathes  on  me  witheringly. 

My  tears  are  dry,  my  sighs  supprest ! 

N.  P.  Will  IS 


ADVICE. 

Let  me  entreat 

Tou  to  unfold  the  anguish  of  your  heart ; 

Mishaps  are  master’d  by  advice  discreet. 

And  counsel  mitigates  the  greatest  smart. 

Spenser's  Fairy  Queen, 
Direct  not  him  whose  way  himself  will  choose ; 

’T  is  breath  thou  lack’st,  and  that  breath  wilt  thou  lose, 

Shakspeare 

I pray  thee,  cease  thy  counsel. 

Which  falls  into  mine  ear  as  profitless 

As  water  in  a sieve.  Shakspeare. 

I shall  the  effect  of  this  good  lesson  keep. 

As  watchman  to  my  heart. 

Shakspeare, 

Men  counsel  and  speak  comfort  to  that  grief 
Which  they  themselves  not  feel ; but,  tasting  it, 

Their  counsel  turns  to  passion,  which  before 
-i^ould  give  preceptial  medicine  to  rage. 


26 


AFFECTION. 


Fetter  strong  madness  in  a silken  thread, 

Charm  ache  with  air,  and  ogony  with  words 

SlIAKSPI'AHK 

Give  every  man  thine  ear,  but  few  thy  voice ; 

Take  each  man’s  censure,  but  reserve  thy  judgment. 

SnAKsn;  Aur.. 


AFFECTION. 

There  is  in  life  no  blessing  like  affection ; 

It  soothes,  It  hallows,  elevates,  subdues. 

And  bringeth  down  to  earth  its  native  heaven  : — 

Life  has  naught  else  that  may  supply  its  place. 

Miss  L.  E.  Landoiv. 
Oh ! there  are  looks  and  tones  that  dart 
An  instant  sunshine  through  the  heart ; 

As  if  the  soul  that  minute  caught 
Some  treasure  it  through  life  had  sought. 

X.  MoOKJ!.. 

Alas  ’ our  young  affections  run  to  waste. 

Or  water  but  the  desert. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
Oh,  sweet  are  the  tones  of  affection  sincere. 

When  they  come  from  the  depth  of  the  heart ; 

And  sweet  are  the  words  that  banish  each  care. 

And  bid  sorrow  for  ever  depart  1 

’T  were  sweet  to  kiss  thy  tears  away, 

If  tears  those  eyes  must  know  ; 

But  sweeter  still  to  hear  thee  say, 

Thou  never  hadst  them  How. 

Bijlwer. 

How  cling  we  to  a thing  our  hearts  have  nursed  ! 

M rs.  C.  H.  W Eslino. 


AFFECTION. 


27 


I )h,  if  there  were  one  gentle  eye 
To  weep  when  I might  grieve. 

One  bosom  to  receive  the  sigh 
Which  sorrow  oft  will  heave — 

One  heart,  the  ways  of  life  to  cheer, 

Though  rugged  they  might  be — 

No  language  can  express  how  dear 
That  heart  would  be  to  me  ! 

Balfe’s  Bohemian  (Jirl 

— Those  tones  of  dear  deiight, 

The  morning  welcome,  and  the  sweet  good  night  i 

Charles  Sfraoue. 

No  love  is  like  a sister’s  love, 

Unselfish,  free,  and  pure — 

A flame  that,  lighted  from  above. 

Will  guide  but  ne’er  allure. 

It  knows  no  frown  of  jealous  fear, 

Nc  blush  of  conscious  guile  ; 

Its  wrongs  are  pardon’d  through  a tear,. 

Its  hopes  crown’d  by  a smile. 

Fry’s  Leonora. 


The  sorrows  of  thy  wounded  heart 
I’ll  teach  thee  to  forget. 

And  win  thee  back  by  gentle  art 
From  passion’s  vain  regret. 

And  Time  shall  bring  on  faithful  wing, 
From  o’er  the  flood  of  tears. 

The  pledge  of  peace,  when  grief  may  cease. 
And  joy  light  after  years 


Fry’s  Leoimra. 


28 


AGE. 


AGE 

— And  his  big  manly  voice, 

Turning  again  towards  childish  treble,  pipes 
And  whistles  in  his  sound. 

Shakspearx 

When  forty  winters  shall  besiege  your  brow, 

And  dig  deep  trenches  in  thy  beauty’s  field. 

Thy  youth’s  proud  livery,  so  gazed  on  now. 

Will  be  a tatter’d  weed,  of  small  worth  held 
" Shaksplake. 

In  me  thou  seest  the  twilight  of  such  day. 

As  after  sunset  fadeth  in  the  west, 

Which  by  and  by  black  night  doth  take  away, 

Death’s  second  seif,  that  seals  up  all  in  rest. 

Shakspeare. 

Age  cannot  wither  her,  nor  custom  stale 
Her  infinite  variety. 

Shakspeare. 

Old  as  I am,  for  ladies’  love  unfit, 

The  power  of  beauty  I remember  yet. 

Dryden. 

Shoulder’d  his  crutch,  and  show’d  how  fields  were  won. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  Village. 

Hut  grant  to  life  some  perquisites  of  joy ; 

A time  there  is,  when,  like  a thrice-told  tale, 

Long  rifled  life  of  sweets  can  yield  no  more. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 

As'e  sits  with  decent  grace  upon  his  visage, 

And  worthily  becon'.es  his  silver  locks; 

He  w('ars  the  marks  of  many  years  well  spent. 

Of  virtue  ^ruth  well  tried,  and  wise  experience. 


Ruwb 


AGE. 


29 


The  hand  of  time  alone  disarms 
Her  face  of  its  superfluous  charms ; 

But  adds,  for  every  grace  resign’d, 

Al  thousand  to  adorn  her  mind. 

Broome 

Thus  aged  men,  full  loth  and  slow 
The-  vanities  of  life  forego, 

And  count  their  youthful  follies  o’er, 

Till  memor]^  lends  her  light  no  more. 

Scott’s  Rokeby^ 

’T  is  the  sunset  of  life  gives  us  mystical  lore. 

And  coming  events  cast  their  shadows  before. 

Campbell’s  Pleasures  of  Hope 

Although  my  heart  in  earlier  youth 
Might  kindle  with  more  warm  desire. 

Believe  me,  I have  gain’d  in  truth 
Much  more  than  I have  lost  in  fire. 

What  was  but  passion’s  sigh  before, 

Has  since  been  turn’d  to  reason’s  vow. 

And  tho’  I then  might  love  thee 
Yet  oh ! I love  thee  better  now ! 

Moore 

— I left  him  in  a green  old  age. 

And  looking  like  the  oak,  worn,  but  still  steady 
Amidst  the  elements,  whilst  younger  trees 
Fell  fast  around  him. 

Byron  s IVerner. 
* 

Tho’  time  has  touch’d  her  too,  she  still  retains 
Much  beauty  and  more  majesty. 

By  RON 

A blighted  trunk  upon  a cursed  root. 

Which  but  supplies  a feeling  to  decay. 

Byron’s  Manfred, 

Now  then  the  ills  of  age,  its  pains,  its  care, 

The  drooping  spirit  for  its  fate  prepare ; 


30 


AMBITION  - EMULATION  - Of.OUY. 


And  each  affection  failing,  leaves  the  heart 
Ijoosed  from  life’s  charm,  and  willing  to  depart. 

CR.\BBir,. 

An  old,  old  man  with  beard  as  white  as  snow. 

Spender 

The  eye  dims,  and  the  heart  gets  old  and  slow; 

The  lithe  limb  stiffens,  and  the  snn-hued  locks 
Thin  themselves  off.  or  whiteJy  wither. 

Bailey’s  Fcstus 

Why  grieve  that  Time  has  brought  so  soon 
The  sober  age  of  manhood  on  ? 

As  idly  should  I weep  at  noon 

To  see  the  blush  of  morning  gone. 

W.  C Bryant 

The  visions  of  my  youth  are  past, 

Too  bright,  too  beautiful  to  last. 

W.  C.  Bryant 

Fled  are  the  charms  that  graced  that  ivory  brow ; 

Where  smiled  a dimple,  gapes  a wrinkle  now. 

Robert  Treat  Paine. 


AMBITION  — EMULATION  — GLORY. 

Why  then  doth  flesh,  a bubble-glass  of  breath, 

Hunt  after  honour  and  advancement  vain. 

And  rear  a trophy  for  devouring  death, 

With  so  great  labour  and  long-lasting  pain — 

As  if  life’s  days  for  ever  should  remain  ? 

Spenser’s  Ruins  of  Turn, 
V’’aulting  ambition  overleaps  itself. 

SlIAKSPEARE. 

Seeking  the  bubble  Reputation 
Even  in  the  cannon’s  mouth. 


Shaksi»earf 


AMBITION  - EMULATION  -GLORY. 


31 


’Tis  likt*  d circle  in  the  water, 

Which  nevei  ceaseth  to  enlarge  itself, 

'nil,  by  uide  spreading,  it  disperse  to  nought. 

Shakspeare 

Wno  trod  the  ways  of  glory, 

And  sounded  all  the  depths  and  shoals  of  fame. 

Shakspf.irs 

The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  power, 

And  all  that  beauty,  all  that  wealth  e’er  gave, 

Await  alike  th’  inevitable  hour. 

The  path  of  glory  leads  but  to  the  grave  ! 

Gray*j5  Elegy, 

What  various  wants  on  power  attend  ! 

Ambition  never  gains  its  end. 

Who  hath  not  heard  the  rich  complain 
Of  surfeit  and  cor})oreal  pain? 

And,  barr’d  from  every  use  of  wealth, 

Envy  the  ploughman’s  strength  and  health  ? 

Gay’s  fabCeB, 

Who  never  felt  the  impatient  throb. 

The  longing  of  a heart  that  pants 
And  reaches  after  distant  good  ? 

COWPER, 

The  fiery  soul  abhorr’d  in  Catiline, 

In  Decius  charms,  in  Curtius  is  divine : 

The  same  ambition  can  destroy  or  save. 

And  make  a patriot,  as  it  makes  a knave. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 
Ol  sons  of  earth  ! attempt  ye  still  to  rise 
By  mountains  piled  on  mountains  to  the  skies  ? 

Heaven  still  with  laughter  the  vain  toil  surveys. 

And  buries  madmen  in  the  heaps  they  raise. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man. 
Thus  the  fond  moth  around  the  taper  plays, 

And  sports  and  flutters  near  the  treacherous  blaze; 


32 


AMBITION  - EMULATION  -OLORY 


Ravish’d  with  joy,  he  wings  his  eager  flight, 

Nor  dreams  of  ruin  in  so  clear  a light  : 

He  tempts  his  fate,  and  courts  a glorious  doom, 

A bi.ght  destruction  and  a shining  tomb. 

Tickeli. 

So  much  the  raging  thirst  for  fame  exceeds 

7'he  generous  warmth  which  prompts  to  worthy  deeds* 

That  none  confess  fair  Virtue’s  genuine  power. 

Or  woo  her  to  their  breasts  without  a dower. 

Gifford’s  Juvenal 

But  glory’s  glory ; and  if  you  would  find 
What  that  is — ask  the  pig  who  sees  the  wind. 

Byron’s  Don  Juuru 
Longings  sublime  and  aspirations  high. 

Byron  s Don  Juan, 

W^hat  millions  died,  that  Csesar  might  be  great ! 

Cam  j*  BELL. 

Press  on  ! for  it  is  godlike  to  unloose 
The  spirit,  and  forget  yourself  in  thought ; 

Bending  a pinion  for  the  deeper  sky. 

And,  in  the  very  fetters  of  your  flesh. 

Mating  with  the  pure  essences  of  heaven. 

N.  P.  Willis 

■ Ambition  is  the  germ, 

From  which  all  growth  of  nobleness  proceeds. 

Thomas  Dunn  English. 
In  some,  ambitioj^i  is  the  chief  concern  ; 

For  this  they  languish  and  for  this  they  burn  ; 

For  this  they  smile,  for  this  alone  they  sigh  , 

For  this  they  live,  for  this  would  freely  die. 

J.  T.  Watson 

And  man,  the  image  of  his  God,  is  found, 

Just  for  an  empty  name,  an  airy  sound. 

Spending  the  short  remainder  of  his  life 
In  brutal  conflict,  and  in  deadly  strife  : — 

For  ’t  is  a strife,  disguise  it  as  you  may. 

Keen  as  the  warrior’s  in  the  battle  day. 


J.  T.  Watson 


ANCESTRY  - NOHILITY  -TITLES,  Ac. 


S3 


AxNCESTRY  — NOBILITY  — TITLES,  &c. 

True  IS  tha";  whilome  that  good  poet  said, 

That  gentle  mind  by  gentle  deed  is  known, 

For  man  by  nothing  is  so  well  bewray’d 
As  by  his  manners,  in  which  plain  is  shown 
Of  what  degree  and  what  race  he  is  grown 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queen. 
Titles  of  honour  add  not  to  his  worth. 

Who  is  an  h(:5nour  to  his  title. 

Ford. 

Alan  is  a name  of  honour  for  a king ; 

Additions  take  away  from  each  chief  thing. 

Chapmam. 

A fool  indeed  has  great  need  of  a title ; 

It  teaches  men  to  call  him  Count  and  Duke, 

And  to  forget  his  proper  name  of  fool. 

Crown 

Titles,  the  servile  courtier’s  lean  reward, 

Sometimes  the  pay  of  virtue,  but  more  oft 

The  hire  which  greatness  gives  to  slaves  and  sycophants. 

Rowe 

With  their  authors  in  oblivion  sunk 
V^ain  titles  lie ; the  servile  badges  oft 
Of  mear.  submission,  not  the  meed  of  worth. 

Thomson. 

Whoe’er  amidst  the  sons 
Of  reason,  valour,  liberty,  and  virtue, 

Displays  distinguish’d  merit,  is  a noble 
Of  nature’s  own  creating. 

1'homson 

Should  vice  expect  to  ’scape  rebuke. 

Because  its  owner  is  a duke  ? 


3 


Swift 


34 


ANCKSTRY-NOBILII'Y  -TI'I  LES,  Slc. 


’Tis  from  high  life  high  charac^nrs  r\re  drawn; 

A saini  in  crape  is  twice  a saint  in  lawn  ; 

A judge  is  just,  a chancellor  juster  still  ; 

A gown-man,  learn’d  ; a bishop  what  you  will  ; 

Wise,  if  a minister;  but  if  a king, 

More  wise,  more  iearn’d,  more  just,  more  everything. 

K 


Many  a Prince  is  worse, 

Who,  proud  of  pedigree,  is  poor  of  purse. 

Pope’s  Moral  E^sai^s 
How^  poor  are  all  hereditary  honours. 

’rhose  poor  possessions  from  another’s  deeds. 

Unless  our  own  just  virtues  form  our  title. 

And  give  a sanction  to  our  fond  assumptions ! 

SHIRIEY4 

Boast  not  these  titles  of  your  ancestors 

Brave  youths  ; they  ’re  their  possessions,  not  your  own  : 

When  your  owm  virtues  equall’d  have  their  names, 

’Twill  be  but  fair  to  lean  upon  their  fames. 

For  they  are  strong  supporters ; but,  till  then 
The  greatest  are  but  growing  gentlemen. 

Ben  Jonson 

Superior  wmrth  your  rank  requires  ; 

For  that,  mankind  reveres  ^mur  sires  ; 

If  you  degenerate  from  your  race. 

Their  merit  heightens  your  disgrace. 

Gay’s  Fables 

He  stands  for  fame  on  his  forefathers’  feet, 

By  heraldry  proved  valiant  or  discreet! 

YoUNUv 

E’en  to  the  dullest  peasant  standing  by. 

Who  fasten’d  still  on  him  a wandering  eye. 

He  seem’d  the  master  spirit  01  the  lunu. 

Joanna  Baili  ie„ 

Even  to  the  delicacy  of  their  hands 

’|.’here  was  reseniblance,  such  as  true  blood  w^ears. 

^Py^on’s  l)o7i  Juan. 


ANGER- TEMPER  - RAGE. 


35 


“ Your  ancient  ho'  -ie  ?”  No  more  : I cannot  see 
The  wondrous  merits  of  a pedigree : 

Nor  of  a proud  display 

Of  smoky  ancestors  in  wax  and  clay. 

jtifforb’s  Juv^enal 

What  boots  it  on  the  lineal  tree  to  trace, 

'riirough  many  a branch,  the  founders  of  our  race — 
Time-honoured  chiefs — if,  in  their  right,  we  give 
A loose  to  vice,  and  like  low  villains  live  ? 

Gifford’s  Juvenal 

Fona  man  ! though  all  the  honours  of  your  line 
Bedeck  your  halls,  and  round  your  galleries  shine 
In  proud  display,  yet  take  this  truth  from  me — 

Virtue  alone  is  true  nobility  I 

Gifford’s  Juvenal 

How  shall  we  call  those  noble,  who  disgrace 
Their  lineage,  proud  of  an  illustrious  race  ? 

Who  seek  to  shine  by  borrow’d  lights  alone. 

Nor  with  their  fathers’  glories  blend  their  own  ? 

Gifford’s  Juvenal 

Whence  his  name 

And  lineage  long,  it  suits  me  not  to  say ; 

Suffice  it  that,  perchance,  they  were  of  fame, 

And  had  been  gloripus  in  another  day. 

Byron’s  Childe  Haiolti 


ANGER  — TEMPER  — RAGE. 

Full  many  mischiefs  follow  cruel  wrath, 

Abhorred  bloodshed,  and  tumultuous  strife, 
Unmanly  murder,  and  unthrifty  scathe. 

Bitter  despite,  with  rancour’s  rusty  knife. 

And  fretting  grief — the  enemy  of  life. 

Spenser’s  Fairy 


36 


ANGER  - TEMPER  - PAGE. 


Madnfjss  and  anger  differ  but  in  this : 

This  is  short  madness,  that  long  anger  is 

A.L£Y1f« 

My  rag‘=»  is  not  malicious ; like  a spark 
Of  fire  by  steel  enforc’d  out  of  a flint 
It  is  no  sooner  kindled,  but  extinct. 

IrOFrfc 

O that  my  tongue  were  in  the  thunder’s  mouth  ! 

I’hen  with  a passion  would  I shake  the  world. 

SHAKftF£Af«fc. 


Anger  is  like 

A full  hot  horse,  who  being  allow’d  his  way. 
Self-mettle  tires  him. 


ShaKSPEaRK. 

Come  not  oetween  the  dragon  and  his  wrath 

Shakspeare. 

Heaven  has  no  rage  like  love  to  hatred  turn’d. 

Congreve 

Those  hearts  that  start  at  once  into  a blaze, 

And  open  all  tneir  rage,  like  summer  storms 
At  once  discharg’d,  grow  cool  again  and  calm. 

C.  Johnson 

When  anger  rushes  unrestrain’d  to  action. 

Like  a hot  steed  if  stumbles  in  its  way : 

The  man  o!  tnougnt  strikes  deepest,  and  strikes  safest. 

Savage. 

Then  flash'd  the  living  lightning  from  her  eyes. 

And  screams  of  horror  rend  the  vaulted  skies; 

Not  louder  shrieks  to  pitying  heaven  are  cast. 

When  husbands,  or  when  lap-dogs,  breathe  their  last; 

Or  when  rich  china  vessels,  fallen  from  high. 

In  glittering  dust  and  painted  fragments  lie. 

Pope, 

From  loveless  youth  to  un respected  age, 

No  passion  gratified,  except  her  rage. 

Pope. 


ANGER  - TEMPER  - RAGE. 


37 


And  to  be  wroth  with  one  we  love, 

Doth  work  like  madness  in  the  brain. 

CoLER!l/OE 

Of  all  bad  things  by  which  mankind  are  curs'd, 

Their  own  bad  tempers  surely  are  the  worst. 

Cumberland’s  Menandet 
And  her  brow  clear’d,  but  not  her  troubled  eye ; 

The  wind  was  down,  but  still  the  sea  ran  high. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 

Patience  ! — Hence — that  word  was  made 
For  brutes  of  burden,  not  for  birds  of  prey  ; 

Preach  it  to  mortals  of  a dust  like  thine, — 

I am  not  of  thine  order. 

Byron’s  Manfred. 

All  furious  as  a favour’d  child 
Balk’d  of  its  wish ; or,  fiercer  still, 

A woman  piqued,  who  has  her  will. 

Byron’s  Mazeppa. 

For  his  was  not  that  blind,  capricious  rage, 

A word  can  kindle  and  a word  assuage ; 

But  the  deep  working  of  a soul  unmix’d 
With  aught  of  pity,  where  its  wrath  had  fix’d. 

Byron’s  Lara. 

His  brow  was  like  the  deep  when  tempest-tost. 

By^ron’s  Vision  of  Judgment. 
Foil’d,  bleeding,  breathless,  furious  to  the  last. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 

The  ocean  lash’d  to  fury  loud. 

Its  high  waves  mingling  with  the  cloud. 

Is  peaceful,  sweet  serenity 
To  anger’s  dark  and  troubled  sea. 

J.  W,  Eastburnb 

At  this  she  bristled  up  with  ire — 

Her  bosom  heav’d — her  eye  glanc’d  fire  ; 

The  blush  that  late  suffus’d  her  face. 

To  deeper  crimson  now  gave  place; 


38 


ANIMAL  - BEAST  - BRUTE. 


Those  eyes,  that  late  were  t right  with  joy, 

Glared  now  like  lightning  to  destroy ; 

And  she  with  such  resentment  burn’d 
As  only  ivoman  feels  when  scorn’d. 

J,  T.  Watsos 


ANIMAL  — BEaST  — BRUTE. 

But  they  do  want  the  quick  discerning  power,. 

Which  doth  in  man  the  erring  sense  correct; 

Therefore  the  bee  did  suck  the  painted  flower, 

And  birds,  of  grapes  the  cunning  shadow  peck’d. 

Davies’  Immortality  of  tht  Soul. 
The  subtle  dog  scours,  wdth  sagacious  nose, 

Along  the  field,  and  snuffs  each  breeze  that  blows , 

Against  the  wind  he  takes  his  prudent  w^ay, 

While  the  strong  gale  directs  him  to  the  prey. 

Now  the  warm  scent  assures  the  covey  near ; 

He  treads  with  caution,  and  he  pants  with  fear : 

Then  close  to  ground  in  expectation  lies. 

Till  in  the  snare  the  fluttering  covey  rise. 

Gay’s  Rural  Sports. 
A colt,  whose  ej^eballs  flamed  with  ire. 

Elate  with  strength  and  youthful  fire. 

Gay’s  Fables. 

The  lion  is,  beyond  dispute, 

Allow^’d  the  most  majestic  brute ; 

His  vaiour  and  his  generous  mind 
Prove  him  superior  of  his  kind. 

Gay’s  Folks. 

Had  fate  a kinder  lot  assign’d, 

And  form’d  me  of  the  lap-dog  kind, 

1 then,  in  higher  life  employ’d, 

Vlad  indolence*  and  ease  enjoy’d; 


ANIMAL  - BEAST  - BRUTE. 


39 


And,  like  a gentleman  caress’d, 

Had  been  tlie  lady’s  favourite  guest. 

Gay’s  Fabler 

The  wily  fox  remain’d, 

A subtle,  pilfering  foe,  prowling  around 
In  midnight  shades,  and  wakeful  to  destroy. 

Somervile’s  Chase 
Of  all  the  brutes  by  nature  form’d, 

The  artful  beaver  best  can  litar  the  want 
Of  vital  air;  yet,  ’neath  the  whelming  tide. 

He  lives  not  long ; but  respiration  needs 
At  proper  intervals. 

Somervile’s  Chase 
Let  cavillers  deny 

That  brutes  have  reason ; sure ’t  is  something  more, 

’T  is  heaven  directs,  and  stratagems  inspire 
Beyond  the  short  extent  of  human  thought. 

Somervile’s  Chase, 
The  snappish  cur 
CJlose  at  my  heel  with  yelping  treble  flies. 

Pope. 

The  hare,  timorous  of  heart,  and  hard  beset 
By  death  in  various  forms,  dark  snares,  and  dogs, 

And  more  unpitying  man. 

Thomson’?  Seasons. 

And,  scorf.ing  all  the  taming  arts  of  man. 

The  keen  hyena,  fellest  of  the  fell. 

Thomson’s  Seasons 

The  lively,  shining  leopard,*speck]ed  o’er 
With  many  a spot,  die  beauty  of  the  waste. 

Thomson’s  Seasrtm 
He  stands  at  bay 

And  puts  his  last  faint  refuge  in  despair; 

The  big  round  tears  run  down  his  dappled  face  ; 

He  groans  in  anguish. 


Thomson’s  Seasons 


40 


ANTIQUARY. 


The  tiger  darting  fierce, 

Impetuous  or  the  prey  his  eye  hath  doom’d 

Thomson’s  Seasom 

7’he  watch“dog’s  voice,  thaw  bay’d  the  whispering  Ind. 

GoLDSMI  IH 

Both  mongrel,  puppy,  whelp,  and  hound 
And  curs  of  low  degree 

Goldsmii  H 

’Ti^  sweet  to  hear  the  watch-dog’s  honest  bark 
Bay  deep-mouth’d  welcome,  as  we  draw  near  hom< 

Byron’s  Don  Jvan 

They  revel,  rest,  then  fearless,  hopeless,  die 

C.  Sprague 

The  brindled  catamount,  that  lies 
High  in  the  boughs  to  catch  his  prey 

W,  C.  Bryant 


ANTIQUARY, 

They  say  he  sits 
All  day  in  contemplation  of  a statue 
With  ne’er  a nose ; and  dotes  on  the  decays. 

With  greater  love  than  the  self-loved  Narcissus 
Did  on  his  beauty. 

ShaKPHUT 

What  toil  did  honest  Curio  take, 

What  strict  inquiries  did  he  make. 

To  get  one  medal  wanting  yet. 

And  perfect  all  his  Roman  set ! 

'T  is  found  ! and  oh  ! his  happy  lot ! 

’T  is  bought,  lock’d  up,  and  lies  forgot  \ 


APPAREL  - DRESS  - FASHION. 


41 


He  shows,  on  holidaj^s,  a sacred  pin, 

That  touch’d  the  ruff  that  touch’d  Q,ueen  Bess’s  chin. 

Young’s  Love  oj  Fame 
Rare  are  the  buttons  of  a Roman’s  breeches, 

In  antiquarian  eyes  surpassing  riches : 

Rare  is  each  crack’d,  black,  rotten,  earthen  dish, 

That  held  of  ancient  Rome  the  flesh  and  fish. 

Dr.  Wolcot’s  Fe^er  . 


APPAREL  — DRESS  — FASHION. 


Her  snowy  breast  was  bare  to  ready  spoil 
Of  hungry  eyes. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queen. 

Neat,  trimly  drest^ 

Fresh  as  a bridegroom,  and  his  chin  new-reaped, 

Show’d  like  a stubble-land  at  harvest  home. 

Shakspearb 


Drew  from  the  deep  Charybdis  of  his  coat 
What  seem\l  a handkerchief,  and  forthwith  blew 
His  vocal  nose. 

Shakspeark 

Costly  thy  habit  as  thy  purse  can  buy. 

But  not  express’d  in  fancy  ; rich,  not  gaudy  ; 

For  the  apparel  oft  proclaims  the  man. 

Shakspeark 


The  fashion 

Doth  wear  out  more  apparel  than  the  man. 

SnAKSPr  AH& 

It  is  the  mind  that  makes  the  body  rich ; 

And  as  the  sun  breaks  through  the  darkest  clouds. 

So  honour  peereth  in  the  meanest  habit. 

What ! is  the  jay  more  precious  than  the  lark, 


APPAREL  ~ DRESS  - FASHION. 


Because  his  feathers  are  more  beautiful  ? 
Or  is  the  adder  better  than  the  eel, 

Because  his  painted  skin  contents  the  eye  ’ 

Like  a rich  jewel  in  an  Ethiop’s  ear. 


Shakspeajls 

Shakspkare 


Her  polish’d  limb? 

V^eil’d  in  a simple  robe,  their  best  attire, 

P/jydnd  the  pomp  of  dress ; for  loveliness 
Needs  not  the  foreign  aid  of  ornament, 

But  is,  when  unadorn’d,  adorn’d  the  most. 

Thomson  s Seasons, 

Let  firm,  well-hammer’d  soles  protect  thy  feel, 

Through  freezing  snows,  and  rain,  and  soaking  sleet ; — 
Should  the  big  last  extend  the  sole  toe  wide. 

Each  stone  will  wrench  th’  unwary  step  aside ; 

The  sudden  turn  may  stretch  the  swelling  vein. 

Thy  cracking  joints  unhinge,  or  ankle  sprain  ; 

And  when  too  small  the  modest  shoes  are  worn. 

You  ’ll  judge  the  seasons  by  your  shooting  corn. 

Gay’s  Trivicu 

Nor  should  it  prove  thy  less  imiportant  care. 

To  choose  a proper  coat  for  winter  wear ; 

Be  thine  of  kersey  firm,  tho’  small  the  cost ; 

Then  brave,  unwet,  the  rain — unchill’d,  the  frost. 

Gay’s  Tnmc^ 

Let  beaux  their  canes  with  amber  tipt  produce  ; 

Be  theirs  for  empty  show,  but  thine  for  use. 

Imprudent  men  Heaven’s  choicest  gifts  profane  , 

Thus  some  beneath  their  arm  support  the  cane, 

The  dirty  point  oft  checks  the  careless  pace. 

And  muddy  spots  the  clean  cravat  disgrace. 

Oh  ’ may  I never  such  misfortune  meet ! 

May  no  such  vicious  persons  walk  the  street ! 

Gay’s  Tnvia, 


APPEARANCE. 


43 


In  diamonds,  curls,  and  rich  brocades 
She  shines  the  first  of  batter’d  jades, 

And  flu  ters  in  her  pride. 

Pc  PR. 

Say  wil.  ^he  falcon  stooping  from  above, 

Smit  with  her  varying  plumage,  spare  the  dove  ? 

Admirer  the  jay  the  insect’s  varying  wings  ? 

Or  hears  the  hawk  when  Philomela  sings  ? 

• Pope. 

Be  not  the  first  by  whom  the  new  is  tried, 

Nor  yet  the  last  to  lay  the  old  aside. 

Pope. 

And  even  while  Fashion’s  brightest  arts  decoy, 
d'he  heart,  distrusting,  asks  if  this  be  joy  ? 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  Milage, 
Beppo  ! that  beard  of  thine  becomes  thee  not ; 

It  should  be  shaved  before  you  ’re  a day  older ! 

Byron’s  Beppo, 

He  had  that  grace,  so  rare  in  every  clime. 

Of  being,  without  alloy  of  fop  or  beau, 

A finish’d  gentleman,  from  top  to  toe. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 
But,  next  to  dressing  for  a rout  or  ball, 

Undressing  is  a woe. 

Bytion’s  Don  Juan 


APPEARANCE. 

Trust  not  the  treason  of  those  smilinof  looks. 

Until  you  have  their  guileful  trains  well  tried, 

For  they  are  like  but  into  golden  hooks, 

1 hat  from  the  foolish  fish  their  baits  do  hide. 

Spenser’s  Sonnet  % 


44 


APPEARANCE. 


W ny  should  the  sacred  character  of  virtue 
Shine  on  a villain’s  countenance  '*  Ye  powers  ! 

Why  fix’d  you  not  a brand  on  treason’s  front, 

That  we  might  know  t’  avoid  perfidious  mortals  ? 

Dennis 

Mislike  me  not  for  my  complexion 
The  shadow’d  liv’ry  of  the  burnish’d  sun, 

To  whom  I am  a neighbour,  and  near  breU. 

. Shakspearr, 

A man  may  smile  and  smile,  and  be  a villain. 

Shakspearr, 

All  that  glitters  is  not  gold, 

Gilded  tombs  do  worms  enfold. 

Shakspeare. 

What ! is  the  jay  more  precious  than  the  lark, 

Because  his  feathers  are  more  beautiful ! 

Or  is  the  adder  better  than  the  eel. 

Because  his  painted  skin  contents  the  eye  ? 

Shakspeauk. 

So  the  blue  summit  of  some  mountain  height. 

Wrapt  in  gay  clouds,  deludes  the  distant  sight ; 

But  as  with  gazing  eyes  we  draw  more  near, 

Fades  the  false  scene,  and  the  rough  rocks  appear. 

Pattison. 

He  has,  I know  not  what. 

Of  greatness  in  his  looks,  and  of  high  fate, 

That  almost  awes  me. 

Dryden. 

The  gloomy  outside,  like  a rusty  chest. 

Contains  the  shining  treasure  of  a soul, 

Resolv’d  and  brave. 

Drypen 

I'ho’  the  fair  rose  with  beauteous  blush  is  crown’d, 
B^meath  her  fragrant  leaves  the  thorn  is  found  ; 

I'he  peach,  that  with  inviting  crimson  blooms. 

Deep  at  the  heart  the  cank’rmg  worm  consumes. 

jrAY  s 


APPEARANCE. 


45 


No!  always  actioi  s show  the  man : we  find 
Who  does  a kindness  is  not  therefore  kind ; 

Who  combats  bravely  is  not  therefore  brave  ; — 

Pie  dreads  a death-bed,  like  the  meanest  slave ; 

Who  reasons  wisely  is  not  therefore  wise — 

His  pride  in  reasoning,  noi  in  acting,  lies. 

Pope’s  Moral  Esijn/s 

She  speaks,  behaves,  and  acts  just  as  she  ought, 

But  never,  never  reach’d  one  generous  thought ; 

Virtue  she  finds  too  painful  an  endeavour. 

Content  to  dwell  in  decencies  for  ever. 

Pope’s  Moral  Essjys. 
Your  thief  looks,  in  the  crowd. 

Exactly  like  the  rest,  or  rather  better ; 

T is  only  at  the  bar,  or  in  the  dungeon, 

That  wise  men  know  your  felon  by  his  features. 

Byron’s  Werner. 

I’hat  this  is  but  the  surface  of  his  soul, 

And  that  the  depth  is  rich  in  better  things. 

Byron’s  Werner. 

Full  many  a stoic  eye  and  aspect  stern 
Masks  hearts  where  grief  has  little  left  to  learn ; 

And  many  a withering  thought  lies  hid,  not  lost, 

In  smiles  that  least  befit,  who  wears  them  most. 

Byron’s  Corsair 

How  little  do  they  see  what  is,  who  frame 
Their  hasty  judgments  upon  that  which  seems. 

South E? 

The  deepest  ice  that  ever  froze 
Can  only  o er  the  surface  close ; 

The  living  stream  lies  quick  below, 

And  flows,  and  cannot  cease  to  flow. 

Byron’s  Parlsina. 

AS  a beam  o’er  the  face  ot  the  water  may  glow, 

While  the  tide  runs  in  darkness  and  coldness  below. 


46 


APPEARANCE. 


So  the  cheek  may  be  ting’d  with  a warm  sunny  smile, 
Tho’  the  cold  heart  to  ruin  runs  darkly  the  while. 

Moore 

Appearance  may  deceive  thee  — understand, 

A pure  white  glove  may  hide  a filthy  hand. 


VVith’n  the  oyster’s  shell  uncouth 
The  purest  pearl  may  bide ; — 

Trust  me,  you  ’ll  find  a heart  of  truth 
Within  that  rough  outside. 

Mrs.  Ose 

Who  will  believe  ? not  I,  for  in  deceiving 

Lies  the  dear  charm  of  life’s  delightful  dream  ; 

I cannot  spare  the  luxury  of  believing 

That  all  things  beautiful  are  what  they  seem. 

Fitz-green  Hailece 

Tis  not  the  fairest  form  that  holds 
The  mildest,  purest  soul  within  ; 

’'Fis  not  the  richest  plant  that  folds 
The  sweetest  breath  of  fragrance  in. 

R.  Dawes 

Angel  forms  may  often  bide 

Spirits  to  the  fiends  allied. 

Mrs.  M.  St.  Leon  Lcmn 

Think  not,  because  the  eye  is  bright, 

And  smiles  are  laughing  there, 

The  heart  that  beats  within  is  light. 

And  free  from  pain  and  care. 

A blush  may  tinge  the  darkest  cloud 
Ere  Sol’s  last  ray  depart. 

And  underneath  the  sunniest  smile 
May  lurk  the  saddest  heart. 


Al'FETITE  - DINNER  - HUNGER,  &c. 


47 


APPETITE  — DINNER  — HUNGER,  &c. 

Our  stomachs 

Will  make  what’s  homely,  savoury. 

Shakspeark* 

He  was  a man  of  an  unbounded  stomach. 

Shakspeake. 

Famine  is  in  thy  cheeks, 

Need  and  oppression  stareth  in  thine  eyes, 

Upon  thy  back  hangs  ragged  misery ; 

The  world  is  not  thy  friend,  nor  the  world’s  law. 

Shakspeare. 

Read  over  this,  and  after  this, — and  then 
To  breakfast  with  what  appetite  you  have. 

Shakspeare, 

They  would  defy 
That  which  they  love  most  tenderly ; 

Cluarrel  with  minced  pies,  and  disparage 
Their  best  and  dearest  friend,  plum-porridge ; 

Fat  pig  and  goose  itself  oppose. 

And  blaspheme  custard  thro’  their  nose. 

Butler’s  Hudibras. 

He  bore 

A paunch  of  mighty  bulk  before. 

Which  still  he  had  a special  care 
To  keep  weP  cramm’d  with  thrifty  fare. 

Butler’s  Hudihra%. 

For  finer  or  fatter 

Ne’er  ranged  in  a forest,  or  smoked  in  a platter. 

Goldsmith 

Critiqu’d  your  wine,  and  analyz’d  your  meat, 

Y^t  on  plain  pudding  deign’d  at  home  to  eat. 

Pope’s  Moral  Essayu. 

The  tankards  foam ; and  the  strong  table  groans 
Beneath  the  smoking  sirloin,  stretch’d  immense 
From  side  to  side,  in  which,  with  desperate  knife, 

They  deep  incisions  make.  Thomson. 


48 


APPETITE  - ]JINNER  - HIJNGKR,  UtAj, 


Theii  various  cares  in  one  great  point  combine, 

The  business  of  their  lives — that  is,  to  dine. 

Young’s  Love  of  Fame. 
The  turnpike  road  to  people’s  hearts,  I find, 
liies  thro’  their  mouths,  or  I mistake  mankind. 

Dr.  Wolcot’s  Peter  Pin  tar. 
Behold  ! his  breakfasts  shine  with  reputation  ; 

His  dinners  are  the  wonder  of  the  nation ! 

With  these  he  treats  both  commoners  and  quality. 

Who  praise,  where’er  they  go,  his  hospitality. 

Dr.  Wolcot’s  Peter  Pindar, 
Dire  was  the  clang  of  plates,  of  knife  and  fork. 

That  merciless  fell,  like  tomahawks,  to  work  ! 

Dr.  Wolcot’s  Peter  Pindar, 

Famish’d  people  must  be  slowly  nurst. 

And  fed  by  spoonfuls,  else  they  always  burst. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

Besides,  I’m  hungry,  and  just  now  would  take 
Like  Esau,  for  my  birthright  a beef-steak. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

And  when  he  look’d  upon  his  watch  again. 

He  found  how  much  old  Time  had  been  a wmiiei — 

He  also  found  that  he  had  lost  his  dinner. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 

Nothing’s  more  sure  at  moments  to  take  hold 
(3f  the  best  feelings  of  mankind,  which  grow 
More  tender,  as  we  every  day  behold. 

Than  that  all-softening,  overpowering  knell, 

The  tocsin  of  the  soul — the  dinner  bell ! 

, Byron’s  Don  Juan 

When  dinner  has  oppress’d  me, 

I think  it  is  perhaps  the  gloomiest  hour 
Which  turns  up  out  of  the  sad  twenty-four. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 


applause  - POPULARIT’K 


49 


fie  fell  upon  whate’er  was  offer’d — like 
A priest,  a shark,  an  alderman,  or  pike. 

Byron’s  Don  Juem 

But  man  is  a carnivorous  production, 

And  must  have  meat,  at  least  one  meal  a day; 

He  (.‘annot  live,  like  woodcocks,  upon  suction, 

But,  like  the  shark  and  tiger,  must  have  prey, 

Byron’s  JJon  Juan. 

— Ail  human  history  attests 
That  happiness  for  man — ^the  hungry  sinner — 

Since  Eve  ate  apples,  must  depend  on  dinner ! 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

The  big  round  dumpling  rolling  from  the  pot. 

D.  Humpkrrys. 

The  same  stale  viands  serv’d  up  o’er  and  o’er^ 

The  stomach  nauseate. 

Wynne’s  Ovid 


APPLAUSE  — POPULARITY. 

Cries  out  upon  abuses,  seems  to  weep 
Over  his  country’s  wrongs,  and,  by  his  faco^ 

This  seeming  brow  of  justice,  did  he  win 
The  hearts  of  ail  that  he  did  angle  for. 

ShAXS'FEARE. 

O,  he  sits  high  in  all  the  people’s  hearu  ; 

And  that,  which  would  appear  offence  in  us. 

His  countenance,  like  richest  alchym} , 

Will  change  to  virtue,  and  to  worthiness. 

Shakspeari;. 

O breath  of  public  praise, 

Short-liv  d and  vain  ! oft  gain’d  without  desert, 

As  often  lost,  unmerited  I 


4 


Havard. 


1 


50 


APPLAl  SK-rorULAUlTY. 


Who  most  to  shun  or  hate  mankind  pretend, 

Seek  an  admirer,  or  would  fix  a friend  : 

Abstract  what  others  feel,  what  others  think, 

All  pleasures  sicken,  and  all  glories  sink. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 

He  spoke,  and  bow’d  ; with  muttering  jaws 
The  wondering  circle  grinn’d  applause. 

Gay’s  FabUs 

The  noisy  praise 

Of  giddy  crowds  is  changeable  as  winds; 

Still  vehement,  and  still  without  a cause ; 

Servant  to  change,  and  blowing  in  the  twde 
Of  swoln  success ; but  veering  with  the  ebb, 

It  leaves  the  channel  dry. 

Drydew 

Some  shout  him,  and  some  hang  upon  his  ear, 

To  gaze  in ’s  eyes  and  bless  him.  Maidens  wave 
Their  ’kerchiefs,  and  old  women  weep  for  joy  ; 

While  others,  not  so  satisfied,  unhorse 
The  gilded  equipage,  and,  turning  loose 
His  steeds,  usurp  a place  they  well  deserve. 

Cowper’s  Task. 

Oh  popular  applause  ! what  heart  of  man 
Is  proof  against  thy  sweet,  seducing  charms  ? 

Cowper’s  7\i.sk. 

In  murmur’d  pity,  or  loud-roar’d  applause. 

Byron’s  Childe  Ilaro^A 

What  if  the  popular  breath  should  damn  the  sun 
In  his  meridian  glory  ? — dost  thou  think 
His  beams  would  fall  less  brightly? 


Uawfs’  JithmicL 


ARCHITECTURE,  &c.  - ARGUMENT,  &lc. 


51 


ARCHITECTURE  --  BUILDING. 

The  princely  dome,  the  column  and  the  arch, 

The  sculptur’d  marble,  and  the  breathing  gold. 

Aken?*dk 

Here  the  architect 

Dia  not  with  curious  skill  a pile  erect 
Of  carved  marble,  touch,  or  porphyry, 

But  built  a house  for  hospitality  ; 

No  sumptuous  chimney-piece  of  shining  stone 
Invites  the  stranger’s  eye  to  gaze  upon. 

And  coldly  entertain  his  sight;  but  clear 

And  cheerful  flames  cherish  and  warm  him  here. 

Carew. 

Windows  and  doors  in  nameless  sculpture  drest. 

With  order,  symmetry,  or  taste  unblest ; 

Forms  like  some  bedlam  statuary’s  dream. 

The  craz’d  creation  of  misguided  whim. 

Burns. 

The  high  embower’d  roof, 

With  antique  pillars,  massy  proof, 

And  storied  windows  richly  dight, 

Casting  a dim  religious  light. 

Mu  TON. 


ARGUM  ENT  — SOPHlS'l  K Y . 

t 

But  this  juggler 

Would  think  to  chain  my  judgment,  as  mine  eyes. 
Obtruding  false  rules  prank’d  in  reason’s  garb, 

Milton  s Comus, 


52 


AP.GIiMENT  - SOPHISTRY. 


Enjoy  thy  gay  wit  and  false  rhetoric, 

That  hath  so  well  been  taught  her  dazzling  fence ; 

Thou  art  not  fit  to  hear  thyself  convinced. 

Milton’s  Comui. 

Reproachful  speech  from  either  side 
The  want  of  argument  supplied ; 

They  rail’d,  revil’d  — as  often  ends 
The  contests  of  disputing  friends. 

Gay’s  Fahbt 

Dogmatic  jargon  learnt  by  heart, 

Trite  sentences,  hard  terms  of  art. 

To  vulgar  ears  seems  so  profound, 

They  fancy  learning  in  the  sound. 

Gay’s  Fables, 

He ’d  undertake  to  prove,  by  force 
Of  argument,  a man’s  no  horse  ; 

He ’d  prove  a buzzard  is  no  fowl, 

And  that  a lord  may  be  an  owl ; 

A calf  an  alderman,  a goose  a justice. 

And  rooks  committee-men  and  trustees. 

Butler’s  Hudibras, 

A man  convinc’d  against  his  will. 

Is  of  the  same  opinion  still. 

Butler’s  Hudibras, 


Now  with  fine  phrase,  and  foppery  of  tongue. 
More  graceful  action,  and  a smoother  tone. 
The  orator  of  fable  and  fair  face 
Will  steal  on  your  brib’d  hearts. 

In  subtle  sophistry’s  laborious  forge. 

False  eloquence,  liRe  the  prismatic  glass. 

Its  gaudy  colours  spreads  in  every  place ; 

The  face  of  nature  we  no  more  survey. 

All  glares  alike,  without  distinction  gay  : — 


YoUN3. 

Young 


ARGUMENT  - SOPHISTRY. 


53 


But  true  expression,  like  th’  unchanging  sun, 

Clears  and  improves  whate’er  it  shines  upon ; 

It  gilds  all  objects,  but  it  alters  none. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism. 
Who  shall  decide  when  doctors  disagree. 

And  soundest  casuists  doubt,  like  you  and  me  ? 

Pope’s  Moral  Essays 

Like  doctors  thus,  when  much  dispute  has  past. 

We  find  our  tenets  just  the  same  at  last. 

Pope’s  Moral  Essays. 
But  as  some  muskets  do  contrive  it. 

As  oft  to  miss  the  mark  they  drive  at. 

And,  though  well-aim’d  at  duck  or  plover, 

Bear  wide,  and  kick  their  owners  over, — 

So  fared  our  squire,  whose  reas’ning  toil 
Would  often  on  himself  recoil. 

And  so  much  injur’d  more  his  side. 

The  stronger  arguments  he  apply’d. 

Trumbull’s  M’^Fingal 
The  self-torturing  sophist,  wild  Rousseau, 

The  apostate  of  affection — he,  who  threw 
Enchantment  over  passion,  and  from  woe 
Wrung  overwhelming  eloquence. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 
He  cast 

O’er  erring  deeds  and  thoughts  a heav’nl}^  hue 
Of  words,  like  sunbeams,  dazzling  as  they  pass’d. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
His  speech  was  a fine  sampxe,  on  the  whole. 

Of  rhetoric,  which  the  learn’d  call  “ rigmarole. 

Byron’s  Don  Jynn, 

With  tf?mper  calm  and  mild, 

And  words  of  soften’d  tone. 

He  overthrows  his  neighbour’s  cause, 

And  justifies  his  own. 


ll^cksbiirg  Hln-r. 


54 


ARTIFICE  - CANDOUR. 


With  neat  and  rounded  phrase 
He  tricks  the  shapeless  thought ; 

Like  hope  of  power,  it  charms  lo-day  ; 
To-morrow,  it  is  nought. 

Vicksburg 


ARTIFICE  — CANDOUR, 


Make  my  breast  . 

Transparent  as  pure  crystal,  that  the  world, 

Jealous  of  me,  may  see  the  foulest  thought 
My  heart  doth  hold. 

Buckingham 

Shallow  artifice  begets  suspicion. 

And,  like  a cobweb  veil,  but  thinly  shades 
The  face  of  thy  design ; alone  disguising 
What  should  have  ne’er  been  seen, 

CONGRE^'K 

Imperfect  mischief! 

Thou,  like  the  adder  venomous  and  deaf. 

Hast  stung  the  traveller ; and  when  thou  think’st 
To  hide,  the  rustling  leaves  and  bended  grass 
Confess  and  point  the  path  which  thou  hast  crept. 

O,  fate  of  fools  1 officious  in  contriving,  ' 

In  executing,  puzzved,  lame,  and  lost. 

CONGREVM 

You  talk  to  me  in  parables ; 

You  may  have  known  that  I’m  no  wordy  man ; 

Fine  speeches  are  the  instruments  of  knaves. 

Or  fools,  that  use  them  when  they  want  good  sense. 

Otway 


Honesty 

Needs  no  disguise  nor  ornament;  be  plain. 


Otway 


\ ASSASSINA  TION  - MURDER. 


55 


The  brave  do  never  shun  the  light ; 

Just  are  their  thoughts,  and  open  are  their  tempers  ; 

Truly  v;ithout  disguise,  they  love  oi  hate  ; 

Stdl  are  they  found  in  the  fair  face  of  day, 

And  heaver*  and  men  are  judges  of  their  actions 

Rowe 

’T  is  great,  ’t  is  manly  to  disdain  disguise ; 

It  shows  our  spirit,  or  it  proves  our  strength 

Young’s  Night  Tkoughth, 
A man  of  sense  can  artifice  disdain. 

As  men  of  wealth  may  venture  to  go  plain ; 

I find  the  fool  when  I behold  the  screen, 

For ’t  is  the  wise  man’s  interest  to  be  seen 

Young’s  Lov(  of  Fame. 


ASSASSINATION  — MURDER. 

Will  all  Neptune’s  ocean  wash  this  blood 

Clear  from  my  hand  ? No,  this  my  hand  will  rather 

The  multitudinous  seas  incarnadine, 

Making  this  green  one,  red. 

Shakspeahe. 

The  great  King  of  kings 
Hath  in  the  table  of  his  law  commanded 
That  thou  shalt  do  no  murder ; wilt  thou  then 
Spurn  at  his  edict,  and  fulfil  a man’s  ? 

Shakspeake. 

The  tyrannous  and  bloody  act  is  d6ne ; 

The  most  arch  deed  of  piteous  massacre 
That  ever  yet  this  land  was  guilty  of. 

Shaksfeape 

Though  in  the  trade  of  war  I have  slain  men. 

Yet  do  I hold  it  very  stuff  o’  the  conscience 
To  do  no  contriv’d  murder  ; I lack  iniquity 
Sometimes,  to  do  me  service. 


Shakspeark. 


ASSOC!  Al’ES  - COMPANr. 


3ee-“!us  face  i s black  and  ful!  of  blood ; 

His  eyeballs  furiher  out  than  when  he  lived, 

Staring  full  ghastly,  like  a strangled  man ; 

H is  hair  up  rear’ d ; his  nostrils  stretch’d  with  struggling; 
His  bands  abroad  display’d,  as  one  that  grasp’d 
And  tugg’d  for  life,  arid  was  by  strerigth  subdued. 

Shakspe^rr. 

Blood,  though  it  sleeps  a time,  yet  never  dies ; 

The  gods  on  naurd’rers  fix  revengeful  eyes. 

Chapma^i 

Murder  itself  is  past  all  expiation. 

The  greatest  crime  that  nature  doth  abhor. 

Gofff, 


Is  there  a crime 

Beneath  the  roof  of  heaven,  that  stains  the  soul 
Of  men  with  more  infernal  hue,  than  damn’d 
Assassination  ? 

'Fibber. 


Cease,  trifiers ; would  you  have  me  feel  remorse. 

Leave  me  alone — nor  cell,  nor  chain,  nor  dungeons, 

Speak  to  the  murderer  with  the  voice  of  solitude. 

Maturin’s  Bertram 

Oh ! thou  dead 

And  everlasting  witness  ! whose  unsinking 

Blood  darkens  earth  and  heaven  ! what  thou  now  art, 

I know  not ; but  if  thou  seest  what  I am, 

I think  thou  wilt  forgive  him,  whom  his  God 
Can  ne’er  forgive,  nor  his  own  soul— farewell ! 

Byron’s  Cam. 


ASSOCIATES  — COMPANY. 
Unbidden  guests 

Are  often  welcomest  w^hen  they  are  gone, 


Shakspfare. 


AS'rONISHMENT  - SURPRISE. 


rj7 


So  lilies  in  a glass  enclose — 

'Pile  glass  will  seem  as  white  as  those. 

CowLii  i 

Pis  hard,  where  dulness  overrules, 

Po  keep  good  sens^^  in  crowds  of  fools; 

\nj  we  admire  the  man  who  saves 
fl'j;  honest V iti  crowds  of  knaves. 

Dean  Swirf 


Then  must  I plunge  again  into  the  crowd 
Where  revel  calls,  and  laughter,  vainly  loud, 

False  to  the  heart,  distorts  the  hollow  cheek, 

To  leave  the  flagging  spirit  doubly  weak. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
Then  as  we  never  met  before,  and  never. 

It  may  be,  may  again  encounter,  why, 

I thought  to  cheer  up  this 


Byron. 


Like  the  stain’d  web,  that  whitens  in  the  sun, 

Grow  pure  by  being  purely  shone  upon. 

Moore’s  Lalla  Eookh 


ASTONISHMENT  —SURPRISE. 

With  wild  surprise. 

As  if  to  marble  struck,  devoid  of  sense, 

A stupid  moment  inrl  ion  less  she  stood. 

Thomson’s  Seasons 

He  stood 

Pierc’d  by  severe  amazement,  hating  life. 

Speechless  and  fix’d  in  all  the  death  of  woe. 

Thomson’s  l^sons 

Were  his  eyes  open?  Yes,  and  his  mouth  loo ; — 

Surprise  has  this  effect,  to  make  one  dumb. 

Yet  leave  the  gate,  which  eloquence  slips  through. 

As  wide  as  if  a long  speech  were  to  come. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 


AUTHORS- WRITER® 


A war-horse,  at  the  trumpet’s  sound, 

A lion,  rous’d  by  heedless  hound,  ‘ 

A lyjant  wak’d  to  sudden  strife, 

By  graze  of  ill-directed  knife, 

Starts  not  to  more  convulsive  life. 

Than  he  who  heard  that  vo\v  display’d. 

Byron’s  Bridt  oj  Mydos 


AUTHORS  --  WRITERS. 

ilow  many  great  ones  may  remember’d  be, 

Which  in  their  days  most  famously  did  flourish, 

Of  whom  no  words  we  hear,  no  signs  now  see, 

But  as  things  wip’d  out  with  a sponge  do  perish, 
Because  they  living  cared  not  to  cherish 
No  gentle  wits,  through  pride  or  covetize. 

Which  might  their  names  for  ever  memorize  ! 

Spenser’s  Ruins  of  Timt 
He  that  writes. 

Or  makes  a feast,  more  certainly  invites 

His  judges  than  his  friends  ; there ’s  not  a guest 

But  will  find  something  wanting,  or  ill-drest. 

Sir  R.  Howard. 

Much  thou  hast  said,  which  I know  when 
And  where  thou  stol’st  from  other  men ; 

Whereby ’t  is  plain  thy  light  and  gifts, 

Are  all  but  plagiary  shifts. 

Butler^s  Hudibuts 

Authors  are  judg’d  b}’  strange  caprici:)us  rules , 

The  great  ones  are  thought  mad,  the  small  ones  fooLs  j 
Vet  sure  the  best  are  most  severely  fated. 

For  tools  are  only  laugh’d  at — wits  are  hated. 


autumn  - SPRING  - WTNl’ER. 


59 


Some  write,  confin’d  by  physic  ; some,  by  debt; 

Some,  for  ’tis  Sunday;  some,  because  ’tis  wet; 

Another  writes  because  his  father  writ. 

And  proves  himself  a bastard  by  his  wit. 

\ OUNO. 

None  but  an  author  knows  an  author’s  cares 
Or  Fancy’s  fondness  for  the  child  she  bears. 

CoWPES 

Oar  doctor  thus,  with  stuff’d  sufficiency 
Of  all  omnigenous  omnisciency. 

Began  (as  who  would  not  begin. 

That  had  like  him  so  much  within?) 

To  let  it  out  in  books  of  all  sorts. 

Folios,  quartos,  large  and  smah  sorts 

Moorb 

One  hates  an  author  that ’s  all  author^  fellows 
In  foolscap  uniform  turn’d  up  with  ink  ; 

So  very  anxious,  clever,  fine  and  jealous, 

One  don’t  know  what  to  say  to  them,  or  think, 

Unless  to  puff  them  with  a pair  of  bellows ; 

Of  coxcombry’s  worst  coxcombs,  e’en  the  pink 
Are  preferable  to  these  shreds  of  paper. 

These  unquench’d  snuffings  of  the  midnight  taper. 

Byron’s  Beppc, 


AUTUMN  — SPRING  — WINTER,  &g. 

Perceivest  thou  not  the  process  of  the  year. 

How  the  four  seasons  in  four  forms  appear? 

Like  human  life  in  <ivery  shape  they  wear ; 

Spring  first,  like  infancy,  shoots  out  her  head, 

With  milky  juice  requiring  to  be  fed 

Proceeding  onward,  whence  the  year  began, 

The  summer  grows  adult,  and  ripens  into  man.  . . 


GO 


AUTUMN -SPRING -WINTER,  Slc. 


Autumn  succeeds,  a sober,  tepid  age. 

Nor  froze  with  fear,  nor  boiling  into  rage ; 

Last,  winter  creeps  along  with  lardy  pace, 

Sour  is  his  front,  and  furrow’d  is  his  face. 

Dryden’s  Ovid 

See,  winter  comes,  to  rule  the  varied  year. 

Sullen  and  sad,  with  all  his  rising  Iirain  ; 

Vapours,  and  clouds,  and  storms. 

Thomson’s  Seasi^r.s 

As  yet  the  trembling  year  is  unconfin'd. 

And  winter  oft  at  eve  resumes  the  breeze. 

Chills  the  pale  morn,  and  bids  his  driving  sleets 
Deform  the  day  delightless. 

Thomson’s  Seasons. 

But  see,  the  fading  many-colour’d  woods. 

Shade  deep’ning  over  shade,  the  country  round 
Embrown. 

Thomson’s  Seasons 

From  bright’ning  fields  of  ether,  fair  disclos’d. 

Child  of  the  sun,  refulgent  Summer  comes ; 

In  pride  of  youth,  and  felt  thro’  nature’s  depth. 

He  comes,  attended  by  the  sultry  hours, 

And  ever-fanning  breezes  on  his  way. 

Thomson’s  Seasons 

U winter ! ruler  of  the  inverted  year,  .... 

I love  thee,  all  unlovely  as  thou  seem’st, 

And  dreaded  as  thou  art. 

Cowper’s  Task 

Where  smiling  Spring  its  earliest  visit  paid. 

And  parting  Summer  ling’ring  blooms  delay’d. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  Villagi 
And  winter,  lingering,  chills  the  lap  of  spring. 

Goldsmith’s  TraveUfi 

Fa  in  wDuld  my  muse  the  flowing  treasure  sing. 

And  humble  glores  of  the  youthful  spring. 


Pops 


AUTUMIS -SPRING- WINTER,  &c. 


61 


Where  summer’s  beauty  ’midst  of  winter  stays, 

And  winter’s  coolness,  spite  of  summer’s  rays. 

POPB 

Eternal  Spring,  with  smiling  verdure,  here 
Warms  the  mild  air,  and  crowns  the  youthful  year. 

Garth 

But  mighty  nature  bounds  as  from  her  birth. 

The  sun  is  in  the  heavens,  and  life  on  earth ; 

Flowers  in  the  valley,  splendour  in  the  beam. 

Health  in  the  gale,  and  freshness  in  the  stream. 

Byron’s  Lara* 

The  merry  May  hath  pleasant  hours,  and  dreamily  they 
glide. 

As  if  they  floated,  like  the  leaves,  upon  a silver  tide  ; 

The  trees  are  full  of  crimson  buds,  the  woods  are  full  of 
birds,  ^ 

And  the  waters  flow  to  music,  like  a tune  with  pleasant 
words. 

The  keen  north-west,  that  heaps  the  drifted  snow. 

David  Humphreys. 

The  sultry  summer  past,  September  comes. 

Soft  twilight  of  the  slow  declining  year. 

More  sober  than  the  buxom,  blooming  May, 

And  therefore  less  the  favourite  of  the  world  ; 

But  dearest  month  of  all  to  pensive  minds. 

Carlos  Wilcox, 

And  the  meridian  sun. 

Most  sweetly  smiling  with  attemper’d  beams. 

Sheds  gently  dowm  a mild  and  grateful  warmth. 

Carlos  Wilcox 

Th;?  melancholy  days  are  o’er, 

The  saddest  of  the  year. 

Of  wailing  winds,  and  naked  woods,  ' 

And  meadows  brown  and  sear. 


W.  C.  Bryant. 


62 


AUTUMN  - SPRING  - WINTER,  &c. 


The  dead  leaves  strew  the  forest  walk, 

And  wither’d  are  the  pale  wild  flowers; 

The  frost  hangs  black’ning  on  the  stalk. 

The  dew-drops  fall  in  frozen  showers. 

J.  Brainabd 

The  world  leads  round  the  seasons  in  a choir, 

For  ever  cliangirig,  and  for  ever  new, 

Blending  the  grand,  the  beautiful,  the  gay, 

The  mournful  and  the  tender,  in  one  strain. 

J.  G.  Percival 

The  gentle  gales  of  Spring  went  by. 

And  fruits  and  flowers  of  summer  die ; 

The  autumn  winds  swept  o’er  the  hill. 

And  winter’s  breath  came  cold  and  chill. 

Goodrich 

What  scenes  of  delight,  what  sweet  visions  she  brings 
Of  freshness,  of  gladness  and  mirth — 

Of  fair  sunny  glades  where  the  buttercup  springs, 

Of  cool,  gushing  fountains,  of  rose-tinted  wings. 

Of  birds,  bees  and  blossoms,  all  beautiful  things, 

Whose  brightness  rejoices  the  earth  ! 

Mrs.  a . B.  Welby 

The  bleak  wind  whistles  -snow-showers,  far  and  near. 
Drift  without  echc  to  the  whitening  ground ; 

Autumn  hath  past  away,  and,  cold  and  drear. 

Winter  stalks  in,  with  frozen  mantle  bound. 

Mrs.  Norton, 

Hark!  through  the  dim  woods  dyirg 
With  a moan. 

Faintly  the  winds  are  sighing; — 

Summer ’s  gone  ! 

Mrs.  Norton. 

First  budding  Spring  appears,  next  Summer’s  heat, 

Then  Autumn’s  fruits,  then  Winter’s  cold  and  sleet. 

1.  T.  Watson 


AVARICE  - BRIBERY -MISER. 


Then'  rugged  W inter  his  appearance  makes, 

CJoth’d  in  his  cheerless  robes  of  snow  and  ^rost, 

And  vegetation  all  the  land  forsakes, 

And  ^^o^vcrs  decay,  and  all  Spring’s  fruits  are  lost. 

J.  T.  W ATSOM 


AVARICE  — BRIBERY  — MISER. 

Shall  we  now 

Contaminate  our  fingers  with  base  bribes  ? 

And  sell  the  mighty  space  of  our  large  honours. 

For  so  much  trash  as  may  be  grasped  thus  ? 

I ’d  rather  be  a dog,  and  bay  the  moon, 

Than  such  a Roman.  ^ 

SuAKSPEA»?e. 

The  miser  lives  alone,  abhorr’d  by  all, 

Like  a disease,  yet  cannot  so  be  ’scaped. 

But,  canker-like,  eats  through  the  poor  men’s  hearts 
That  live  about  him  ; never  has  commerce 
With  any,  but  to  ruin  them. 

May 

Of  Age’s  avarice  I cannot  see  ** 

What  colour,  ground,  or  reason  there  can  be ; 

Is  it  not  folly,  when  the  way  we  ride 
Is  short,  for  a long  voyage  to  provide  ? 

To  avarice  some  title  Youth  may  own. 

To  reap  in  autumn  what  a spring  had  sown ; 

And,  with  the  providence  of  bees  or  ants, 

Prevent  with  summer’s  plenty  winter’s  wants. 

But  Age  scarce  sows,  ere  death  stands  by  to  reap, 

And  to  a stranger’s  hand  transfer  the  heap. 

Denham. 

Who  thinketh  to  buy  villany  wtth  gold. 

Shall  ever  find  such  faith  so  bought — ^so  sold. 


64 


A V A R ICE  - BR I HER  Y - M ISER. 


Rut  the  base  miser  starves  amidst  his  store, 

Broods  o’er  his  gold,  and  griping  still  at  more. 

Sits  sadl}  pining,  and  believes  he ’s  poor. 

Drvuen 

The  lust  of  gold,  unfeeling  and  remorseless — 

Tho  last  corruption  of  degenerate  man. 

Dr.  Johnson’s  h 

’T  is  strange  the  miser  should  his  care  employ 
To  gain  those  riches  he  can  ne’er  enjoy. 

Pope’s  Moral  Essayg 
Their  crimes  on  gold  shall  misers  lay 
Who ’ve  pawn’d  their  sordid  souls  away  ? 

^ Let  hravoes,  then,  whose  blood  is  spilt. 

Upbraid  the  passive  sword  with  guilt. 

» Gay’s  Faile.B 

Oh  cursed  lust  of  gold ! when  for  thy  sake 
The  fool  throws  up  his  interest  in  both  worlds; 

First  starv’d  in  this,  then  damn’d  in  that  to  come. 

Blair’s  Grav^ 

Who,  lord  of  millions,  trembles  for  his  store. 

And  fears  to  give  a farthing  to  the  poor ; 

Proclaims  that  penury  will  be  his  fate. 

And,  scowling,  looks  on  charity  with  hate. 

Dr.  Wolcot’s  Peter  Pindar^ 
The  love  of  gold,  that  meanest  rage. 

And  latest  folly  of  man’s  sinking  age. 

Which,  rarely  venturing  in  the  van  of  life. 

While  nobler  passions  wage  their  heated  strife, 

Comes  skulking  last,  with  selfishness  and  fear, 

And  dies  collecting  lumber  in  the  rear. 

Moorf- 

Oh  gold  ! why  call  we  misers  miserable  ? 

I'heirs  is  the  pleasure  that  can  never  pall ; 

Theirs  is  the  best  bower-anchor,  the  chain  cable. 

Which  holfls  fast  other  pleasures  great  and  small. 

Byron’s  Don  Juemu 


BALL -DANCING,  &c. 


65 


Sound  him  with  gold ; 

Twill  sink  into  his  venal  soul  like  lead 
Into  the  deep,  and  bring  up  slime,  and  mud. 

And  ooze  too,  from  the  bottom,  as  the  lead  doth 
Witli  its  greased  understratum 

Byron 


A thirst  for  gold, 

The  beggar’s  vice,  which  can  but  overwhelm 
The  meanest  soul. 

Byron’s  Vision  of  Judgment. 
Who  loves  no  music  but  the  dollar’s  clink. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity. 
The  kindly  throbs  that  other  men  control. 

Ne’er  melt  the  iron  of  the  miser’s  soul ; 

Thro’  life’s  dark  road  his  sordid  way  he  wends, 

An  incarnation  of  fat  dividends. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity. 

And  he,  across  whose  brain  scarce  dares  to  creep 
Aught  but  thrift’s  parent  pair — to  get — to  keep. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity. 

Mammon’s  close-link’ d bonds  have  bound  him. 
Self-imposed,  and  seldom  burst ; 

Though  heaven’s  waters  gush’d  around  him. 

He  would  pine  with  earth’s  poor  thirst. 

Mrs.  S.  J.  Hale 


BALL  — DANCING,  &c. 

Come  and  trip  it  as  you  you  go 
On  the  light  fantastic  toe. 

Milton, 

Methought  it  was  the  sound 
Of  riot  and  ill-managed  merriment. 

Such  as  thi  jocund  flute  or  gamesome  pipe 
Stirs  up  among  the  loose  unletter’d  hinds. 

’ M ilton’s  Comiii^ 


5 


BALL -DANCING 


Yet  is  there  one,  the  most  delightfnl  kina, 

A lofty  jumping  and  a leaping  round, 
vV^hen  arm  in  arm  the  dancers  are  entwined. 

And  whirl  themselves  with  strict  embracements  round. 

Dameh 

Alike  all  ages ; dames  of  ancient  days 

Have  led  their  children  through  th^  mirthful  maze ; 

And  the  gay  grandsire,  ski-ll’d  in  gestic  lore. 

Has  frisk’d  beneath  the  burden  of  threescore. 

Goldsmith’s  TravrUer 
A thousand  hearts  beat  happily ; and  when 
Music  arose  with  its  voluptuous  swell. 

Soft  eyes  look’d  love  to  eyes  that  spoke  again, 

And  all  went  merry  as  a marriage  bell. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
On  with  the  dance  ! let  joy  be  unconfined  ! 

No  sleep  till  morn,  when  youth  and  pleasure  meet. 

To  chase  the  glowing  hours  with  flying  feet. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold 

The  long  carousal  shakes  th’  illumined  hall ; 

Well  si)eeds  alike  the  banquet  and  the  ball : 

And  the  gay  dance  of  bounding  beauty’s  train 
Links  grace  and  harmony  in  happiest  chain. 

Blest  are  the  early  hearts  and  gentle  hands, 

That  mingle  theirs  in  well-according  bands ; 

It  is  a sight  the  careful  brow  might  smooth, 

And  make  age  smile,  and  dream  itself  to  youth. 

And  youth  forget  such  hours  were  past  on  earth, — 

So  springs  th’  exulting  bosom  to  that  mirth. 

Byron’s 

The  music,  and  the  banquet,  and  the  wine, — 

I'hc  garlands,  the  rose-odours,  and  the  flowers, — 

The  sparkling  eyes,  and  flashing  ornaments — 

'Fhe  white  arms,  a'^d  the  raven  hair — the  braids 
4ud  bracelets — s>  an-like  bosoms — the  thin  robes. 


BALL-DANr  MG,  &c. 


67 


Floating  like  light  clouds  ’twixt  our  gaze  and  heaven — 
The  many  twinkling  feet,  so  small  and  sylph-like, 
Suggesting  the  more  cecret  symmetry 
Of  the  fair  forms  which  terminate  so  well. 

Byron’s  Marino  Faliero 

When  gas  and  beauty’s  blended  rays 
Set  hearts  and  ball-rooms  in  a blaze ; 

Or  spermaceti’s  light  reveals 
More  “ inward  bruises^^  than  it  heals ; 

In  flames  each  belle  her  victim  kills, 

And  sparks  Jly  iipivard^^  in  quadrilles. 

Hon.  Nicii.  Biddle’s  Ode  to  Bogh 

Such  grace  and  such  beauty  ! dear  creature  ! you’d  sweai 
When  her  delicate  feet  in  the  dance  twinkled  round, 
That  her  steps  are  of  light — that  her  home  is  the  air, 

And  she  only  par  complaisance  touches  the  ground  ! 

Moori 


And  turn  from  gentle  Juliet’s  woe, 

To  count  the  twirls  of  Fanny  Ellsler’s  toe. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity, 

The  bright  and  youthful  dancers  meet. 

With  laughing  lips  and  winged  feet ; 

And  golden  locks  come  flashing  by. 

Like  sudden  sunshine  thro’  the  sky. 

Mrs.  C.  H.  W.  Esling’s  Broken  Bracelet 

And  fairy  forms,  now  here,  now  there. 

Hover’d  like  children  of  the  air. 

Mrs.  C.  H.  W.  Esling’s  Broken  Bracelet, 

Of  all  that  did  chance,  ’t  were  a long  tale  to  tell. 

Of  the  dancers  and  dresses,  and  who  was  the  belle ; 

But  each  was  so  happy,  and  all  were  so  fair. 

That  night  stole  away,  and  the  dawn  caught  them  there. 

S.  G.  Goodrich 


68 


BANISHMENT  - EXILE. 


BANISHMENT  — EXILE. 


Banish’d  ! — the  damned  use  that  word  in  hell ; 

Howlings  attend  it ; how,  hast  thou  the  heart 
To  mangle  me  with  that  word — banishment  ? 

' SHAKSPi'.AkB, 


Some  natural  tears  they  dropt,  but  wip’d  them  soon : 

The  world  was  all  before  them,  where  to  choose  ^ 

Their  place  of  rest,  and  Providence  their  guide. 

They  hand  in  hand,  with  wand’ring  steps  and  slow. 
Through  Eden  took  their  solitary  way. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost 


When  I think  of  my  own  native  land, 

In  a moment  1 seem  to  be  there ; 

But  alas ! recollection  at  hand 
Soon  hurries  me  back  to  despair. 

CoWPfcR 


Ah  me  ! how  oft  will  fancy’s  spells,  in  slumber. 

Recall  my  native  country  to  my  mind ; 

How  oft  regret  will  bid  me  sadly  number 

Each  lost  delight,  and  dear  friend  left  behind  ! 

Mat.  G.  Lewis 


Dreams  of  the  land  where  all  my  wishes  centre, 

Those  scenes  which  I am  doom’d  no  more  to  know, 

Full  oft  shall  memory  trace — my  soul’s  tormentor — 

And  tarn  each  pleasure  past  to  present  woe. 

Mat.  G.  Lewis. 


I depart. 

Whither  I know  not ; but  the  hour’s  gone  by, 

When  Albion’s  lessening  shores  could  grieve  or  glad  ininr 
eye. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harohl 
T^nen  fare  thee  well,  my  country,  lov’d  and  lost ! 

Too  early  lost,  alas  ! when  once  so  dear ; 


BANNER -FLAG 


69 


1 turn  in  sorrow  from  thy  glorious  coast. 

And  urge  the  feet  forbid  to  linger  here. 

E.  D.  Gri#fin 

Farewell ! m}  more  than  fatherland  ! 

Home  of  my  heart  and  friends,  ad’eu  ^ 

Ijng’ring  beside  some  foreign  strano 
How  oft  shall  I remember  you  ! 

R.  H WlLDK 


BANNER  — FLAG. 

Who,  forthwith,  from  the  glitt’ring  staff  unfurl’d 
Th’  imperial  ensign,  which,  full  high  advanc’d, 

Shone  like  a meteor  streaming  to  the  wind. 

Milton’s  Paradise  LosL 

’T  is  the  Star-Spangled  Banner — Oh,  long  may  it  wave 
O’er  the  land  of  the  free,  and  the  home  of  the  brave  ! 

F.  Key 

As  long  as  patriot  valour’s  arm 
Shall  win  the  battle’s  prize, 

That  star  shall  beam  triumphantly. 

That  Ea^le  seek  the  skies ! 

J.  R.  Drake 

Flag  of  the  free  heart’s  only  home, 

By  angel  hands  to  valour  given. 

Thy  stars  have  lit  the  welkin  dome. 

And  all  thy  hues  were  born  in  heaven ! 

For  ever  float  that  standard  sheet ! 

Where  breathes  the  foe  but  falls  before  us, 

With  Freedom’s  soil  beneath  our  feet. 

And  F reedom’s  banner  streaming  o’er  m 1 

J.  R,  Draue. 


70 


BASHFULNESS  - BLUSH  - MODESTY. 


BAhc^FULNESS  LUSH  —MODESTY 

Unto  the  ground  she  cast  her  modest  eye, 

And  ever  and  anon,  with  rosy  red, 

The  bashful  bxush  her  snowy  cheeks  did  dye 

Spenser’s  Fairy  <^ueer%. 
Maidms  in  modesty  say  No,  to  tha* 

Which  they  would  have  the  profTerers  construe.  Aye. 

Shakspeare. 

Confusion  thrill’d  me  then,  and  secret  joy, 

Fast  throbbing,  stole  its  treasures  from  my  heart. 

And,  mantling  upward,  turn’d  my  face  to  crimson. 

Brookr. 

From  every  blush  that  kindles  in  thy  cheeks, 

Ten  thousand  little  loves  and  graces  spring, 

To  revel  in  the  roses 

Rowe’s  Tamerlane, 

As  lamps  burn  silent  with  unconscious  light. 

So  modest  ease  in  beauty  shines  most  bright ; 

Unaiming  charms  with  rays  resistless  fall. 

And  she,  who  means  no  mischief,  does  it  all. 

A 4 RON  Hut 

He  saw  her  charming,  but  he  saw  not  half 
The  charms  her  downcast  modesty  conceal’d. 

Thomson’s  Seasons, 

Do  good  by  stealth,  and  blush  to  find  it  fame. 

Pope. 

A crimson  blush  her  beauteous  face  o’erspread. 

Varying  her  cheeks,  by  turn,  with  white  and  red; 

The  driving  colours,  never  at  a stay, 

Run  heie  and  there,  and  flush,  and  fade  away. 

Pa5NELL. 

’be  modest  matron,  and  the  blushing  maid. 

Goldsmit  h Travellet 


BASIIFIJLNESS  - BLUSH  - MODESTY.  ' 7 

The  bashful  virgin’s  sidelong  look  of  love. 

Goldsmith 

That  modest  grace  subdu’d  my  soul, 

That  chastity  of  look  which  seems  to  hang, 

A.  veil  of  purest  light,  o’er  all  her  beauties, 

And  by  forbidding  most  inflames  desire. 

Fodxo 

I pity  bashful  men,  who  feel  the  pain 
Of  fancied  scorn,  and  undeserv’d  disdain, 

And  bear  the  marks  upon  a blushing  face. 

Of  needless  shame,  and  self-impos’d  disgrace. 

COWPER 

True  modesty  is  a discerning  grace. 

And  only  blushes  in  the  proper  place ; 

But  counterfeit  is  blind,  and  skulks  thro’  fear, 

Where ’t  is  a shame  to  be  asham’d  t’  appear. 

CoWPER. 

Playful  blushes,  that  seem’d  nought 
But  1 uminous  escapes  of  thought. 

T.  Moore 

[ know  a cheek  whose  blushes. 

As  they  trembling  come  and  go, 

I could  gaze  upon  for  ever, 

If  it  did  not  pain  thee  so 

Mrs.  CsioDii' 

And  so  the  blush  is  form’d,  and  flies. 

Nor  owns  reflection’s  calm  control. 

It  comes,  it  deepens  — fades,  and  dies, 

A gush  of  feeling  from  the  soul. 

Mrs.  I h'NA.iF'i 

Modesty ’s  the  charm 
That  coldest  hearts  can  quickest  warm  ; 

Wliich  all  our  best  affections  gains. 

And,  gaining,  ever  stiff  retains. 


J.  K.  Paulding 


72 


BATTI.E  - FIGHTING  - WAR. 


BATTLE  — FIGHTING  — WAIL 

So  brave  reiurniog,  with  his  brandis-h’d  blade^ 

He  to  the  carle  himself  again  ad  cl  rest, 

And  struck  at  him  so  sternly  that  he  made 

An  open  passage  through  his  riven  breast,  • ^ 

And  hall  the  steel  behind  his  back  did  rest. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Q'uren, 
It  was  a pity — so  it  was, 

That  villanous  saltpetre  should  be  digg’d 
Out  of  the  bowels  of  the  harmless  earth, 

Which  many  a good  brave  fellow  has  destroy’d. 

Shakspear?!:. 

Pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance  of  glorious  war. 

SHAKSPEARJfi. 

Jn  peace,  there’s  nothing  so  becomes  a man 
As  modest  stillness  and  humility  ; 

But  when  the  blast  of  war  blows  in  his  ears. 

Then  imitate  the  action  of  the  tiger. 

Shakspearb. 

Now  one ’s  the  better — then  the  other  best. 

Both  tugging  to  be  victor,  breast  to  breast ; 

Yet  neither  conqueror  or  is  conquered. 

So  IS  the  equal  poise  of  this  fell  war. 

Skakspeark, 

With  many  a stiff  thwack,  many  a bang, 

Hard  crabtree  and  old  iron  rang; 

While  ncKie  who  saw  them  could  divine 
lb  which  side  conquest  would  incline. 

Butler’^s  Hudihrma, 

Ah  me  ! what  perils  do  environ 
The  mim  that  meddles  with  cold  iron  ! 

For  tho’  Dame  Fortune  seem  to  smile. 

And  leer  upon  liim  for  a while. 


BATTLE  - FIGHTING  - WAR, 


73 


She’ll  after  show  him,  in  the  nick 
Of  all  his  glories,  a dog-trick. 

Butler’s  Hudibraa 

Death 

Grinn’d  horribly  a ghastly  smile,  to  hear 
His  famine  should  be  fill’d,  and  bless’d  his  maw, 

Destined  to  that  good  hour. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost, 
Those  who  in  quarrels  interpose. 

Must  often  wipe  a bloody  nose. 

Gay’s  Fables 

The  broomstick  o’er  her  head  she  waves ; 

She  sweats,  she  stamps,  she  puffs,  she  raves ; — 

The  sneaking  cur  before  her  files ; 

She  w'histles,  calls — fair  speech  she  tries. 

These  nought  avail.  Her  choler  burns  ; 

The  fist  and  cudgel  threat  by  turns ; 

With  hasty  stride  she  presses  near ; 

He  slinks  aloof,  and  howls  with  fear. 

Gay’s  Fables. 

He  drew  the  sword,  but  knew  its  rage  to  charm. 

And  loved  peace  best  when  he  was  forc’d  to  arm; 
Unmov’d  with  all  the  glittering  pomp  of  power. 

He  took  with  joy,  but  laid  it  down  with  more. 

Rowe’s  Lucan 

Nations  with  nations  mixt  confus’d ly  die. 

And  lost  in  one  promiscuous  carnage  lie. 

Aedison. 

Me  glory  summons  to  the  martial  scene ; 

The  field  of  combat  is  the  sphere  for  men. 

Wheie  heroes  war,  the  foremost  place  I claim, 

The  first  in  danger,  and  the  first  in  fame. 

Pope’s 

Rash,  fruitless  war,  from  wanton  glory  wag’d, 

Is  only  splendid  murder. 


Thom0v>k 


74 


BATTLE  - FIGHTING  - WAR. 


Is  death  more  cruel  from  a private  dagger 

Than  in  the  field,  from  murdering  swords  of  thousands? 

* )r  does  the  number  slain  make  slaughter  glorious  ? 

Cibber 

War  is  of  use  to  human  kind  ; 

For  ever  and  anon,  when  you  have  pass’d 
A few  dull  years  in  peace  and  propagation. 

The  world  is  overstock’d  with  fools,  and  wants 
A pestilence  at  least,  if  not  a hero. 

Jeffery. 

Then  shook  the  hills  with  thunder  riven, 

Then  rush’d  the  steeds  to  battle  driven, 

And,  louder  than  the  bolts  of  heaven, 

Far  flash’d  the  red  artillery. 

Campbell. 

Their  clamours  rend  the  hills  around. 

And  earth  re-bellows  with  the  sound ; 

And  many  a groan  increased  the  din 
From  broken  nose  and  battered  shin. 

Trumbull’s  McFingat, 

And  cover’d  o’er  with  knobs  and  pains 
Each  void  receptacle  for  brains. 

Trumbull’s  McFingaL 
Cne  murder  marks  the  assassin’s  odious  name. 

But  millions  damn  the  hero  into  fame. 

R.  T.  Paine 

d.  nd,  where  the  hottest  fire  was  seen  and  heard. 

And  the  loud  cannon  peal’d  its  hoarsest  strains. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

A .1  that  the  mind  would  shrink  from  of  excesses, 

All  that  the  body  perpetrates  of  bad, 

A ll  that  we  read,  hear,  dream,  of  man’s  distresses. 

All  that  the  devil  would  do,  if  run  stark  mad — 

Was  here  let  loose 


Byron’s  Don  Juan. 


BATTLE-.  FIGHTING- WAFl 


75 


I own  my  natural  weakness : I have  not 
Yet  [earn’d  to  think  of  indiscriminate  murder 
Without  some  sense  of  shuddering. 

Byron’s  Marino  Faliero 
They  form — unite — charge — waver — all  is  lost ! 

Byron’s  Corsair 

The  death-shot  hissing  from  afar 
The  shock,  the  shout,  the  groan  of  war. 

Byron’s  Giaour 

Theirs  the  strife. 

That  neither  spares  nor  speaks  for  life. 

Byron’s  Giaour. 

But  when  all  is  past,  it  is  humbling  to  tread 
O’er  the  weltering  field  of  the  tombless  dead. 

And  see  worms  of  the  earth  and  fowls  of  the  air. 

And  beasts  of  the  forest,  all  gathering  there ; 

All  regarding  man  as  their  prey. 

All  rejoicing  in  his  decay. 

Byron’s  Siege  of  Connth. 
The  field  of  freedom,  faction,  fame,  and  blood. 

• Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 

And  torrents,  swoln  to  rivers  with  their  gore. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold 
’T  was  blow  for  blow,  disputing  inch  by  inch. 

For  one  would  not  retreat,  nor  t’  other  flinch. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

And  slaughter  heap’d  on  high  its  weltering  ranks. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 
Battle’s  magnificently  stern  array. 

Byron’s  Childe  Haiclx. 
In  vain  He  did  whate’er  a chief  may  do. 

To  check  the  headlong  fury  of  that  crew ; 
in  vain  their  stubborn  ardour  he  would  tame — 

The  hand  that  kindles  cannot  quench  the  flame. 

Byron’s  Lara, 


BATTLE  - FIGHTING  - WAR. 


Not  in  the  conflict  havoc  seeks  delight — 

His  day  of  mercy  is  the  day  of  fight; 

But  when  the  field  is  fought,  the  battle  won, 

Tho’  drench’d  with  gore,  his  woes  are  but  begun. 

Byron’s  Curse  of  Minerva, 
Waved  her  dread  pinion  to  the  breeze  of  morn. 

Peal’d  her  loud  drum,  and  twang’d  her  trumpet  horn, 

Campbell. 

From  rank  to  rank  their  vollied  thunder  flew. 

Campbell 

Death  spoke  in  every  booming  shot  that  knell’d  upon  the  ear 

Spragle. 

And  when  the  cannon-mouthings  loud 
Heave  in  wide  wreaths  the  battle  shroud, 

And  gory  sabres  rise  and  fall. 

Like  sheets  of  flame  in  midnight  pall. 

J.  R Drake. 

Hark ! the  muflled  drum  sounds  the  last  march  of  the  brave 
The  soldier  retreats  to  his  quarters,  the  grave. 

Under  Death,  whom  he  owns  his  comrnander-m-chief ; — 

No  more  he  ’ll  turn  out  with  the  ready  relief.  « 

H.  Cummings, 

Now  lies  he  low — no  more  to  hear 
The  victor’s  shout  or  clashing  steOi , 

No  more  of  war’s  rude  cares  to  bear, 

No  more  kind  sympathy  to  feel. 

No  more  he  charges  with  the  host. 

The  thickest  of  the  battle-field ; 

No  LiGie  to  join  in  victory’s  boast, 

No  more  to  see  the  vanquish’d  yield. 

Richmond  Republican, 

Tho  bursting  shell,  the  gateway  wrench’d  asunder, 

The  rattling  musketry,  the  clashing  blade; 

And  ever  and  anon,  in  tones  of  thunder. 

The  diapason  of  the  cannonade. 


Lonoi ellow 


BEAST -BKAUTY. 


77 


BEAST.  — (See  Animal) 


BEAUTY.  , 

The  glass  of  fashion,  and  the  mould  of  form, 

The  observ’d  of  all  observers. 

Shaksfeare. 

Beauty ’s  a doubtful  good,  a glass,  a flower, 

Lost,  faded,  broken,  dead  within  an  hour ; 

And  beauty,  blemish’d  once,  for  ever ’s  lost. 

In  spite  of  physic,  painting,  pain,  and  cost. 

Shaksfeare 

All  orators  are  dumb  when  beauty  pleadeth. 

Shakspearf 

Beauty  is  nature’s  brag,  and  must  be  shown 
In  courts,  and  feasts,  and  high  solemnities, 

Where  most  may  wonder  at  the  workmanship. 

It  is  for  homely  features  to  keep  home ; 

They  had  their  name  thence  ; coarse  complexions. 

And  cheeks  of  sorry  grain,  will  serve  to  ply 
The  sampler,  and  to  tease  the  housewife’s  wool. 

What  need  a vermeil-tinctur’d  lip  for  that. 

Love-darting  eyes,  and  tresses  like  the  morn  ? — 

There  was  another  meaning  in  those  gifts. 

Milton’s  Comm 

Virtue  can  brook  the  thoughts  of  age 
That  asts  the  same  through  every  stage, 

Though  you  by  time  must  suffer  more 
Than  ever  woman  lost  before  ! 

Gay’s  Fablea 

*T  is  not  a lip  or  eye  we  beauty  call, 

But  the  full  force  and  joint  effect  of  all. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticum 


78 


BEAUTY 


If  to  her  btiare  some  f ‘male  errors  fall, 

Look  to  her  face,  and  you  ’ll  forget  them  all 

PoPK. 


Belinda  smiled,  and  all  the  world  was  gay. 

POPK. 

I long  not  for  the  cherries  on  the  tree. 

So  much  as  those  which  on  a lip  I see ; 

And  more  affection  bear  I to  the  rose. 

That  in  a cheek,  than  in  a garden  grows. 

Randoi  t h, 

Grace  was  in  her  steps,  heaven  in  her  eyes. 

In  every  gesture  dignity  and  love. 

Milton’s  Paradise  1a  hI 

Her  eyes,  her  lips,  her  cheeks,  her  shape,  her  features. 
Seem  to  be  drawn  by  Love’s  own  hand. 

Drydi  n. 

’Tis  not  a set  of  features  or  complexion. 

The  tincture  of  a skin,  that  I admire ; 

Beauty  soon  grows  familiar  to  the  lover. 

Fades  in  his  eye,  and  palls  upon  the  sense. 

Addison’s  Cato 


And  those  who  paint  them  truest,  praise  them  most. 

Addison 

All  that  painting  can  express. 

Or  youthful  poets  fancy  when  they  love. 

Rowe’s  Fair  Pcniimt. 


What’s  female  beauty  but  an  air  divine. 

Through  which  the  mind’s  all  gentle  graces  shine  ? 

'rhey,  like  the  sun,  irradiate  all  between ; 

The  body  charms,  because  the  soul  is  seen. 

Young 

Beauty  ! thou  pretty  plaything ! dear  deceit ; 

That  steals  so  gently  o’er  the  stripling’s  heart, 

And  gives  it  a new  pulse  unknown  before  ! 

Blair’s  Grav^ 


BEAUTY. 


79 


No  fantastic  robe, 

That  e’er  caprice  invented,  custom  wore, 

Or  folly  smiled  on,  could  eclipse  thy  charms 

Shenstone. 

To  make  the  cunning  artless,  tame  the  rude, 

Subdue  the  haughty,  shake  the  undaunted  soul : — 

These  ate  the  triumphs  of  all-powerful  beauty. 

Joanna  Baili  [e. 

But  then  her  face, 

So  lovely,  yet  so  arch,  so  full  of  mirth. 

The  overflowing  of  an  innocent  heart. 

Rogers’  Ita^y. 

There  was  a soft  and  pensive  grace, 

A cast  of  thought  upon  her  face, 

That  suited  well  the  forehead  high, 

The  eyelash  dark,  and  downcast  eye ; 

The  mild  expression  spoke  a mind 
In  duty  firm,  compos’d,  resign’d. 

Scott’s  Rokeby 

For  faultless  was  her  form  as  beauty’s  queen, 

And  every  winning  grace  that  love  demands, 

With  mild  attemper’d  dignity  was  seen 

Play  o’er  each  lovely  limb,  and  deck  her  angel  mien. 

Mrs.  Tigh’s  Psyche, 

She  was  a form  of  life  and  light, 

That,  seen,  became  a part  of  sight ; 

And  rose  where’er  I turn’d  my  eye. 

The  morning  star  of  memory. 

Byron’s  (.wianufi 

So  coldly  sweet,  so  deadly  fair,  ^ 

We  start,  for  soul  is  wanting  there. 

Hers  is  the  loveliness  in  death. 

That  parts  not  quite  with  parting  breath — 

But  beauty  with  that  fearful  bloom. 

That  hue,  which  haunts  it  to  the  tomb. 


Byron’s  Giaour. 


80 


BEAUTY. 


Fair  as  the  first  that  fell  of  womankind. 

Byron’s  Giaunr. 

So  bright  the  tear  in  beauty’s  eye, 

Love  half  regrets  to  kiss  it  dry ; 

So  sweet  the  blush  of  bashfulness, 

Even  pity  scarce  can  wish  it  less. 

Byron’s  Bride  of  Jlbydos 
Who  hath  not  prov’d  how  feebly  words  essay 
^Po  fix  one  sjiark  of  beauty’s  heavenly  ray? 

Who  doth  not  feel,  until  his  failing  sight 
Faints  into  dimness  with  its  own  delight. 

His  changing  cheek,  his  sinking  heart  confess 
The  might,  the  majesty  of  loveliness  ? 

Byron’s  Bruit  of  Mydos, 
Such  around  her  shone 
The  nameless  charms  unmark’d  by  hei  alone : 

The  light  of  love,  the  purity  of  grace. 

The  mind,  the  music  breathing  from  her  face. 

The  heart  whose  softness  harmoniz’d  the  whole, 

And,  Oh ! that  eye  was  in  itself  a soul  ! 

Byron’s  Bride  of  Abydos. 
Heart  on  her  lip,  and  soul  within  her  e^^es, 

Soft  as  her  clime,  and  sunny  as  her  skies. 

Byron’s  Beppo, 

Who  can  curiously  behold 
The  smoothness  and  the  sheen  of  beauty’s  cheek, 

Nor  feel  the  heart  can  never  all  grow  cold  ? 

By'ron’s  Cliilde  Harold 
And  form’d  for  all  the  witching  arts  of  love. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 

Whose  large  blue  eyes,  fair  locks,  and  snowy  hands. 
Would  shake  the  saintship  of  an  anchorite. 

. Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 
The  bee  from  that  lip  more  nectar  could  sip 
Than  from  all  the  sweet  buds  in  the  bower. 


BEAUTY. 


SI 


Oh,  fresh  is  the  rose  in  the  gay  dewy  morning-^ 

And  sweet  is  the  lily  at  evening  dose  : 

But  in  the  fair  presence  of  lovely  young  Jessie^ 

Unseen  is  the  lily,  unheeded  the  rose. 

Burns 

Without  the  smile,  from  partial  beauty  won, 

Oh,  what  were  man  ? — a world  without  a sun  ! 

Campbell 

Who  hath  not  paus’d,  while  beauty’s  pensive  eye 
Ask’d  from  his  heart  the  tribute  of  a sigb  ? 

Who  hath  not  own’d,  with  rapture-smitten  frame, 

The  power  of  grace— the  magic  of  a name  ? 

Campbell 

were  easier  far  to  paint  the  hues  of  heaven. 

When  Morn,  resplendent  with  new  gtory,  wakes. 

Or  steal  the  varying  tints  by  sunset  given 

To  the  gold-crested  wave,  the  while  it  breaks, 

Than  to  embody  the  harmonious  grace 
That,  ever-changing,  flitted  o’er  her  face. 

D awe’s  Geraldine 

For  every  block  of  marble  holds  a Venus, 

With  nothing  but  unchiseffd  stone  between  us. 

Dawe’s  Gemldim. 

Thou  an  beautiful,  young  lady ; 

But  I need  not  tell  you  this. 

For  few  have  borne,  unconsciously. 

The  spell  of  loveliness. 

J.  G.  W KITTIES. 

Thou  art  not  beautiful — yet  thy  youtv:-  face 
Makes  up  in  sweetness  what  it  lacks  in  grace  ^ 

^Thou  art  not  beautiful — yet  thy  blue  eyes 
Steal  o’er  the  soul  like  sunshine  . o’er  the  skies ; — 

And  neaven,  that  gives  to  thee  each  mental  grace, 
lias  stamp’d  the  angel  in  thy  sweet  young  face. 

Mrs.  a.  B.  Welbf 


4 


jjkggaH. 


82 


I ’ve  gazed  on  many  a brighter  face, 

But  ne’er  on  one,  for  ’>'ars. 

Where  beauty  left  so  sob  • trace 
As  it  had  left  on  hers 

Mrs.  a.  B.  Wkiry. 

With  eyes  whose  beams  might  shame  a night 
Of  starlight  gleams,  they  were  so  bright ; 

And  cheeks  before  wliose  bloom  the  rose 
Its  blushing  treasure-house  might  close. 

Mrs.  Esling’s  Broken  Bract  let. 
Beauty  in  woman  weaves  a spell 
Around  poor  man’s  devoted  heart, 

And  he  must  guard  the  fortress  well, 

Or  else  he’ll  feel  its  piercing  dart; 

But  when  we  see  in  one  combin’d 
Charms  such  as  do  in  you  exist, 

And  a well-cultivated  mind, 

Her  magic  power  who  can  resist  ? 

J.  T.  Watson 

That  beauteous  dame,  whose  heavenly  charms 
Kept  7’roy  and  Greece  ten  years  in  arms. 

J.  T.  Watson, 


He  look’d 

With  a rapt  gaze  of  wild  delight. 

For  ne’er  saw  he  so  fair  a sight. 

J.  T.  Watsoi^ 

Plato  himself  had  not  survey’d. 

Unmov’d,  such  charms  as  she  display’d. 

J.  T.  Watson 


BEGGAR. 

He  makes  a beggar  first,  that  first  relieves  him  ; 
Not  usurers  make  more  beggars  where  they  live. 
Than  charitable  men,  that  use  to  give. 


He\  wood. 


BETTING  - GAMBLING. 


83 


Base  worldlings,  that  despise  all  such  as  need , 

Who  to  the  needy  beggar  still  are  dumb, 

Not  knowing  unto  what  themselves  may  come. 

He\  wood. 

Beggar?  the  only  free  men  of  our  commonwealth; 

Free  above  scot-free,  that  observe  no  laws, 

Obey  MO  governor,  use  no  religion. 

But  what  they  draw  from  their  own  ancient  custom, 

Or  constitute  themselves — yet  are  no  rebels. 

Brome. 

Pity  the  sorrows  of  a poor  old  man. 

Whose  trembling  limbs  have  borne  him  to  your  door. 
Whose  days  are  dwindled  to  the  shortest  span — 

Oh,  give  relief,  and  Heaven  will  bless  your  store  ! 


BETTING  ~ ^AMBLING. 

Would  you,  when  thieves  are  known  abroad. 

Bring  forth  your  treasure  in  the  road? 

Would  not  the  fool  abet  the  stealth, 

Who  rashly  thus  expos'd  his  wealth  ? 

Yet  this  you  do,  whene’er  you  play 
Among  the  gentlemen  of  prey% 

Gay’s  Fables 

In  debts  of  play. 

Your  honour  suffers  no  delay ; 

And  not  this  year’s  or  next  year’s  rent 
The  sons  of  rapine  can  content. 

Gay’s  Fabks 

Look  round,  the  wrecks  of  play  behold. 

Estates  dismember’d,  mortgag’d,  sold  ! 

Their  owners  now  to  jails  confin’d 
Show  equal  poverty  of  mind. 


Gay’s  Fablt9 


84 


niGOTRY 


Could  fooltj  to  keep  their  own  contrive. 

On  what,  on  whom  would  gamesters  thrive  ? 

Gay’s  Fubln 

Whene’er  the  gaming-board  is  set, 

Two  classes  of  mankind  are  met ; 

But  if  we  count  the  greedy  race, 

The  knaves  fill  up  the  greater  space. 

Gay’s  Fablrs 

If  yet  thou  love  game  at  so  dear  a rate. 

Learn  this,  that  hath  old  gamesters  dearly  cost : 

Dost  lose  ? Rise  up  ; dost  win  ? Rise  in  that  slate. 

Who  strives  to  sit  out  losing  hands  is  lost. 

Herbert. 

Some  play  for  gain  ; to  pass  time,  others  pla} 

For  nothing;  both  do  play  the  fool,  I say ; — ‘ 

Nor  time  or  coin  I ’ll  lose,  or  idly  spend ; 

Who  gets  by  play,  proves  loser  in  the  end 

Heath. 

Most  men,  till  by  experience  made  sager. 

Will  back  their  own  opinion  with  a wager. 

Byron. 


BIGOTRY. 

The  good  old  man,  too  eager  in  dispute. 

Flew  high  ; and,  as  his  Christian  fury  rose. 

Damn’d  all  for  heretics,  who  durst  oppose. 

Drvdeh. 

For  modes  of  faith  let  graceless  zealots  fight;  • 

He  can’t  be  wrong,  whose  life  is  in  the  right. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man, 

Christians  have  burn’d  each  other,  well  persuaded 
That  the  apostles  would  have  done  as  they  did. 

Byron’s  Don  Jican. 

Shall  I ask  the  brave  soldier,  who  fights  by  my  side 
In  the  cause  of  mankind,  if  our  cre(*(]s  disagree? 


BIRDS. 


85 


Sha]I  I give  ap  the  friend  I have  valued  and  tried, 

If  he  kneel  not  before  the  same  altar  with  me  ? 

From  the  heretic  girl  of  my  soul  shall  I fly, 

To  seek  somewhere  else  a more  orthodox  bliss  ? 

No ! perish  the  hearts  and  the  laws  that  would  try 
Truth,  valour,  or  love,  by  a standard  like  this 

Moore. 

Mad  as  Christians  used  to  be 
About  the  thirteenth  century. 

There’s  lots  of  Christians  to  be  had 
In  this,  the  nineteenth,  just  as  bad. 

Moore, 


BIRDS. 


Where  dwelt  the  ghostly  owl, 

Shrieking  his  baleful  note,  which  ever  drave 
Far  from  their  haunt  all  other  cheerful  fowl. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queeji, 
When  he  bestrides  the  lazy-pacing  clouds, 

And  sails  upon  the  bosom  of  the  air. 

Shakspeare. 

[jO  ! here  the  gentle  lark,  weary  of  rest. 

From  his  moist  cabinet  mounts  up  on  high. 

And  wakes  the  morning,  from  whose  silver  breast 
The  sun  ariseth  in  his  majesty, 

. Shakspeare. 

While  the  cock,  with  lively  din, 

Sc^:ters  the  rear  of  darkness  thin. 

Am  to  the  stack  or  the  barn-door 
Proudly  struts  his  dames  before. 

Milton 

Tlie  noisy  geese  that  gabbled  in  the  pool. 

GoLDSIVIfTH 


86 


BIRDS. 


The  heron 

Upon  the  bank  of  some  small,  purling  brook, 

Observant  stands,  to  take  his  scaly  prey. 

SoMERVIlE 

Every  songster  sings. 

Tops  the  high  bough,  and  clasps  his  glist’ning  winys. 

Dr.  Dwioiii 

I saw  the  expectant  raven  fly, 

Who  scarce  could  wait  till  both  should  die. 

Ere  his  repast  begun. 

Byron’s  Mazeppa 

But  his  flaming  eye  dims  not,  his  wing  is  unbow’d ; 

Still  drinks  he  the  sunshine,  still  scales  he  the  cloud. 

W.  H.  Buri.eigh 

And  the  blue /ay  flits  by,  from  tree  to  tree. 

And,  spreading  its  rich  pinions,  fills  the  ear 
With  its  shrill  sounding  and  unsteady  cry. 

Isaac  M’Lellan 

Lone  Whippoorwill; 

There  is  much  sweetness  in  thy  fitful  hymn. 

Heard  in  the  drowsy  watches  of  the  night. 

Isaac  M’Lellan. 

Here  look  on  the  geese,  as  they  nibble  the  grass — 

How  they  stretch  out  their  long  necks,  and  hiss  as  we  pass  ! 
And  the  fierce  little  bantam,  that  flies  your  attack. 

Then  struts,  flaps,  and  crows,  with  such  airs  at  your  back ; 
And  the  turkey-cock,  smoothing  his  plumes  in  your  face, 
Then  ruffling  so  proud,  as  you  bound  from  the  place  ! 

W.  H^  Burleigh. 

The  winglets  of  the  fairy  humming-bird. 

Like  atoms  of  the  rainbow  flitting  round. 

Camp- 7 

The  brown  vultures  of  the  woods 
Flock’d  to  these  vast  uncover’d  sepulchres. 

Ana  sat,  unscar’d  and  silent,  at  their  feast. 

W.  C.  Bryant 


BIRDS. 


87 


The  robin  warbled  forth  his  full  clear  note 
For  hours,  and  wearied  not. 

W.  C.  linYANT. 

Bird  of  the  broad  and  sweeping  wing, 

Thy  home  is  high  in  heaven, 

Where  wide  the  storms  their  banners  fling, 

And  tempest-clouds  are  driven  ! 

J.  G.  Percival 

Ofttimes,  tho’  seldom  seen, 

The  cuckoo,  that  in  summer  haunts  our  groves, 

Is  heard  to  moan,  as  if  at  every  breath 
Panting  aloud. 

Carlos  Wilcox. 

The  merry  mocking-bird  together  links. 

In  one  continued  song,  all  diff’rent  notes. 

Adding  new  life  and  sweetness  to  them  ah 

Carlos  Wilcox. 


Along  the  surface  of  the  winding  stream. 

Pursuing  every  turn,  gay  swallows  skim. 

Or,  round  the  borders  of  the  spacious  lawn. 

Fly  in  repeated  circles,  rising  o’er 
Hillock  and  fence,  with  motion  serpentine. 

Easy  and  light. 

••  Carlos  Wilcox. 

The  robin  to  the  garden  or  green  yard. 

Close  to  the  door,  repairs  to  build  again 
Isfithin  her  wonted  tree. 

Carlos  Wilcox. 


And  in  mid  air  the  sportive  night-hawk,  seen 
Flying  awhile  at  random,  uttering  oft 
A cheerful  cry,  attended  with  a shake 
Of  level  pinions  dark,  but,  when  upturn’d 
Against  the  brightness  of  the  western  sky. 

The  white  plume  shining  in  the  midst  of  each, 

Tbsn  far  down  diving  with  a hollow  sound. 

Cakloss  Wilcox 


88 


BIRDS. 


The  whippoorwill,  her  name  her  only  son^. 

Carlos  \V  iLvjjTi 

The  yellowhammer  by  the  wayside  picks 
Mutedy  the  thistle  seed  : but  in  her  flight 
So  smoothly  serpentine,  her  wirgs  outspread 
To  rise  a little,  clos’d  to  fall  as  far. 

Carlos  Wilcox 

The  flippant  blackbird,  with  light  yellow  crown, 

Hangs  fiutt’ring  in  the  air,  and  chatters  thick 
Till  her  breath  fails,  .when,  breaking  off,  she  drop 
On  the  next  tree,  and  on  its  highest  limb. 

Or  some  tall  flag,  and,  gently  rocking,  sits 
Her  strain  repeating. 

Carlos  Wilcox'. 

With  sonorous  notet 
Of  every  tone,  mix’d  in  confusion  sweet, 

The  forest  rings. 

Carlos  Wilcox, 

The  bird  whose  pinion  courts  the  sunbeam’s  fire. 

Charles  Sprague, 

Ever,  my  son,  be  thou  like  the  dove  ; 

In  friendship  as  faithful,  as  constant  in  love. 

Bishop  Doane, 

A free,  wild  spirit  unto  thee  is  given. 

Bright  minstrel  of  the  blue  celestial  dome ! 

For  tho  i wilt  wander  to  yon  upper  heaven, 

And  bathe  thy  plumage  in  the  sunbeam’^  home ; 

And,  soaring  upward,  from  thy  dizzy  height, 

On  free  and  fearless  wing,  be  lost  to  human  sight ! 

Mrs.  Amelia  Welft 

Hark  ! how  with  love  and  flutt’ring  start 
The  skylark  soars  above, 

And  with  her  full,  melodious  heart, 

She  pours  her  strains  of  love. 


BLACKSMITH  - FARMER  - FEASANT 


89 


Bird  of  the  pure  and  dewy  iriorn  ! 

How  soft  thy  heavenward  lay 
Floats  up  where  life  and  light  are  born, 

Around  the  rosy  day  ! 

Mrs.  Amelia  WsiBif 


BIRTH.  — (See  Ancestry). 


BLACKSMITH  — FARMER  — PEASANT. 

Here  smokes  his  forge  ; he  bares  his  sinewy  arm, 

And  early  strokes  the  sounding  anvil  warm ; 

Around  his  shop  the  steely  sparkles  flew, 

As  for  the  steed  he  shap’d  the  bending  shoe. 

Gay’s  Tnvm, 

Oft  did  the  harvest  to  the  sickle  yield. 

Their  harrow  oft  the  stubborn  glebe  has  brokb ; 

How  jocund  did  they  drive  their  team  a-fieJd, 

How  bow’d  the  woods  beneath  their  sturdy  stroke  ! 

Gray’s  Elegy, 

He  trudg’d  along,  unknowing  what  he  sought. 

And  whistled  as  he  went,  for  want  of  thought. 

t)RYDEN. 

His  corn  and  cattle  were  his  only  care, 

And  his  supreme  delight,  a country  fair. 

Dryden. 

Princes  and  lords  may  flourish,  or  may  fade ; 

A breath  can  make  them,  as  a breath  hath  made  ; 

But  a bold  peasantry,  their  country’s  pride. 

When  once  destroy’d,  can  never  be  supplied. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  Village, 
From  labour  health,  from  health  contentment  springs ; 
Contentment  opes  the  source  of  e\ ery  joy. 

Beattie’s  Minstrel. 


\ 


90 


BLINDNESS. 


The  smith,  a mighty  man  is  he, 

With  large  and  sinewy  hands; 

And  the  muscles  of  his  brawny  arms 
Are  strong  as  iron  bands. 

H.  W.  Longfellcw 

Week  in,  week  out,  from  morn  till  night 
You  can  hear  his  bellows  blow ; 

You  can  hear  him  swing  his  heavy  sledge 
With  measur’d  beat  and  slow. 

H.  W.  Longfellow 

How  blest  the  farmer’s  simple  life  1 
Flow  pure  the  joy  it  yields ! 

Far  from  the  world’s  tempestuous  strife, 

Free,  ’mid  the  scented  fields  ! 

C.  W.  Eveiiest, 

The  cobbler’s  all  depends  upon  his  awl^ 

And  sheer  the  merit  of  the  tailor’s  shears  ; 

The  farmers  crop  their  living  from  their  crop^ 

And  each  man  shares  the  blessings  of  their  shares. 

Who  ever  saw  the  workman  wield  his  saw 
Or  move  his  plane  along  the  timber’s  plane. 

Or  with  just  rule  adjust  his  iron  rule, 

Must  fain  admit  his  skill  he  does  not  feign, 

J.  T.  Watson. 


BLINDNESS. 

O dark,  dark,  dark,  amid  the  blaze  of  noon ; 

Irrevocably  dark ! total  eclipse. 

Without  all  hope  of  day. 

Milton’s  Samson  Agonisltt. 
O,  loss  of  sight,  of  thee  I most  complain ! 

Light,  the  prime  work  of  God,  to  me ’s  extinct, 

And  all  ner  various  objects  of  delight 

Annull’d,  which  might  in  part  my  grief  have  eas’d. 

Milton’s  Samson  Jignnistea 


lU.USH- BOASTING 


91 


Thus  with  the  year 
Searons  return,  but  not  to  me  returns 
Day,  or  the  s’veet  approach  of  ev’n  or  mom, 

Or  sight  of  vernal  bloom,  or  summer’s  rose. 

Or  flocks,  or  nerds,  or  human  face  divine ; 

But  clouds  instead,  and  ever-during  dark 
Surrounds  me,  from  the  cheerful  ways  of  men 
Cut  off,  and  for  the  book  of  knowledge  fair 
Presented  with  an  universal  blank 
Of  nature’s  works  to  me  expung’d  and  rais’d, 

And  wisdom  at  one  entrance  quite  shut  out. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost, 
Nor  to  these  idle  orbs  doth  sight  appear 
Of  sun,  or  moon,  or  stars,  throughout  the  year. 

Or  man,  or  woman.  Yet  I argue  not 
Against  heaven’s  hand  or  will,  nor  bate  a jot 
Of  heart  or  hope  ; but  still  bear  up  and  steer 
Right  onward. 

MiLTOxN, 

Ah ! little  know  they  of  the  dreamy  sadness 
That  shadows  o’er  my  spirit’s  viewljess  urn. 

For  they  can  look  out  on  the  free  world’s  gladness. 

Where  blossoms  blow,  and  stars  shoot  out  and  burn ; 
While  I must  sit,  a fair  yet  darken’d  flower. 

Amid  the  bright  band  gathering  round  our  hearth. 

The  only  sad  thing  in  our  sweet  home’s  bower — 

Oh ! for  one  glance  upon  the  fresh  green  earrii ! 

Mrs.  a.  B Welbt 


BLUSH.  — (See  Bashfulness.) 


boasting. 

The  honour’s  overpaid. 
When  he  that  did  the  act  is  commentator. 


ShIRL¥ 


92 


BOOKS- NCWSPAl’ER - I’UESS. 


For  highest  looks  have  not  tin;  liighest  mind, 

Nor  hancrhty  words  most  full  of  highest  thought ; 

But  are  like  bladders  blown  up  with  the  wind, 

That  b(dng  prick’d  evanish  into  nought. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  (:luftrv 
Who  knows  himself  a braggart, 
liCt  him ‘fear  this ; for  it  will  come  to  pass 
That  ev’ry  braggart  shall  be  found  an  ass. 

SlIAKSPEAUE. 

Here ’s  a large  mouth,  indeed. 

That  spits  forth  death,  and  mountains,  rocks,  and  seas  ; 
Talks  as  familiarly  of  roaring  lions. 

As  maids  of  thirteen  do  of  puppy  dogs. 

Shakspeare, 

What  art  thou  ? Have  not  I 
An  arm  as  bio:  as  thine  ? a heart  as  big-? 

Thy  words,  I grant,  are  bigger,  for  1 wear  not 
My  dagger  in  my  mouth. 

Shakspeare, 

We  rise  in  glory,  as  we  sink  in  pride ; 

Where  boasting  ends,  there  dignity  begins. 

Young’s  Night  Thongh.U 
For  men,  it  is  reported,  dash  and  vapour 
Less  on  the  field  of  battle  than  on  papej* ; 

Thus,  in  the  history  of  each  dire  campaign. 

More  carnage  leads  the  newspaper  than  plain. 

Dr.  Wolcot’s  Pe/er  Pindar 


books  — NEWSPA PE  R ~ PP  ESS 

Books  are/  a part  of  man’s  prerogative  ; 

Tn  formal  ink  they  thought  and  voices  hold; 

That  we  to  them  our  solitude  may  give, 

And  make  time  present  travel  that  of  old. 

Sir  Thomas  L'vfrbc.hv 


BOOKS  - NEWSPAPER  - PRESS. 


93 


’T  is  in  books  the  chief 

Of  all  perfections,  to  be  plain  and  brief.  * 

Bctlfr., 

’T  were  well  with  most,  if  books,  that  could  engage 
Their  childhood,  pleas’d  them  at  a riper  age  ; 

The  man  approving  what  had  charm’d  the  boy 
Would  die  at  last  in  comfort,  peace  and  joy ; 

And  not  with  curses  on  his  art,  who  stole 
The  gem  of  truth  from  his  unguarded  soul. 

CoWPER, 

What  IS  it  but  a map  o^  busy  life, 

Its  fluctuations  and  its  vast  concerns  ? 

COWPER. 

Books  should  to  one  of  these  four  ends  conduce, 

For  wisdom,  piety,  delight,  or  use. 

^ Denham 

The  printed  part,  tho’  far  too  large,  is  less 
Than  that  which,  yet  unprinted,  waits  the  press. 

From  the  Spanish, 

The  Past  but  lives  in  words : a thousand  ages 
Were  blank,  if  books  had  not  evok’d  their  ghosts. 

And  kept  the  pale,  unbodied  shades  to  warn  us 
From  fleshless  lips. 

Bulwer’s  Cromwell, 

’T  is  pleasant,  sure,  to  see  one’s  name  in  print ; 

A book’s  a book,  altho'  there ’s  nothing  in ’t. 

Byron’s  English  Bards  and  Scotch  Bevieii 
Turn  to  the  press — its  teeming  sheets  survey. 

Big  with  the  wonders  of  each  passing  day  ; 

Births,  deaths,  and  weddings,  forgeries,  fires  and  vTecks. 
Harangues  and  hailstones,  bmwls  and  broken  necks. 

Charles  Sprague’s  Curiosity, 
’Twas  heaven  to  lounge  upon  a couch,  said  Gray, 

Aud  read  new  novels  through  a rainy  day 

Charles  Sprague’s  Curn^sity, 


94 


BOOKS  - N EWSr APEB  - PRESA. 


Trade  hardly  deems  the  busy  day  begun, 

Till  his  keen  eye  along  the  sheet  has  run  ; 

The  blooming  daughter  throws  her  needle  by. 

And  reads  her  schoolmate’s  marriage  with  a sigh  : 

While  the  grave  mother  puts  her  glasses  on, 

.\nd  gives  a tear  to  some  old  crone  that ’s  gone. 

The  preacher,  too,  his  Sunday  theme  lays  down, 

To  know  what  last  new  folly  fills  the  town  ; 

Lively  or  sad,  life’s  meanest,  mightiest  things. 

The  fate  of  fighting  cocks,  or  fighting  kings. 

Charles  Sprague’s  Cunoaity. 
See  tomes  on  tomes,  of  fancy  and  of  power. 

To  cheer  man’s  heaviest,  warm  his  holiest  hour. 

Charles  Sprague’s  Curiosity, 
Turn  back  the  tide  of  ages  to  its  head, 

And  hoard  the  wisdom  of  the  honour’d  dead. 

Charles  Sprague’s  Curiosity 
Newspaper  ! who  has  never  felt  the  pleasure  that  it  brings  ? 
It  always  tells  us  of  so  many  strange  and  wondrous  things  ! 
It  makes  us  wee[)  at  tales  of  wo  — it  fills  our  hearts  with 
mi  rth — ^ 

It  tells  us  of  the  price  of  stock  — how  much  produce  is 
Avorth — 

And  when,  and  where,  and  how,  and  why,  strange  things 
occur  on  earth. 

Has  war’s  loud  clarion  call’d  to  arms  ? — has  lightning 
struck  a tree  ? — 

Has  Jenkins  broke  his  leg  ? — or  has  there  been  a storm  at 
sea  ? — 

Has  the  sea-serpent  shown  his  head  ? — a comet’s  tail  been 
seen  ? 

Or  has  some  heiress  with  her  groom  run  off  to  Gretna 
Green  ? — 

Al!  this,  and  many  wonders  more,  you  from  this  sheet  may 
glean. 


J.  T.  Watson. 


BRAVERY  - COURAGE  - FORTITUDE 


95 


BRAVERY  — COURAGE  - FORTITUDE. 

Iii  war,  was  never  lion’s  rage  so  fierce ; 

In  peace,  was  never  gentle  iamb  more  mild. 

ShaKSPEA!IK 

In  struggling  with  misfortune  lies  the  proof 
Of  virtue. 

Shakspeare. 

Pr’ythee,  peace : 

I dare  do  all  that  may  become  a man ; 

Who  dares  do  more,  is  none. 

Shakspeare. 

His  valour,  shown  upon  our  crests  to-day. 

Hath  taught  us  how  to  cherish  such  high  deeds, 

Even  in  the  bosom  of  our  adversary. 

Shakspea  p r 

But  screw  your  courage  to  the  sticking  place, 

And  we  ’ll  not  fail. 

Shakspeare. 

What  though  the  field  be  lost? 

All  is  not  lost ; the  ungovernable  will. 

And  study  of  revenge,  immortal  hate. 

And  courage  never  to  submit  or  yield. 

And  what  is  else  not  to  be  overcome. 

Milton’s  Paradise  J ••ai. 
Let  fortune  empty  all  her  quiver  on  me, 

I have  a soul  that,  like  an  ample  shield. 

Can  take  in  all,  and  ver^e  enoug^h  for  more. 

Drydbm. 

For,  as  we  see  the  eclipsed  sun 
By  mortals  is  more  gazed  upon. 

Than  when,  adorn’d  with  all  his  light. 

He  shines  in  serene  sky  most  bright. 

So  valour,  in  a low  estate. 

Is  more  admir’d  and  wonder’d  at. 


Bugler’s  Hiidibra», 


96 


BRAVER  Y - COURAGE  - FORTITf^OK. 


ffTe  that  is  valiant,  and  dares  fight, 

Though  drubb’d,  can  lose  no  honour  by’t. 

Butler’s  Hudilran 

T is  not  now  who ’s  stout  and  bold  ? 

But  vvho  bears  hunger  best,  and  cold  ? 

An  . he ’s  approv’d  the  most  deserving. 

Who  longest  can  hold  out  at  starving. 

Butler’s  Hudibra^. 
How  sleep  the  brave , who  sink  to  rest 
With  all  their  country’s  honour  blest ! 

C0L1.IN8. 

To  a mind  resolv’d  and  wise, 

There  is  an  impotence  in  misery. 

Which  makes  me  smile,  while  all  its  shafts  are  in  me. 

Young’s  Revaist 

True  fortitude  is  seen  in  great  exploits 

That  justice  warrants,  and  that  wisdom  guides ; 

All  else  is  tow’ring  frenzy  and  distraction. 

Addison’s  ('nfn 

The  wise  and  active  conquer  difficulties, 

By  daring  to  attempt  them  ; sloth  and  folly 
Shiver  and  sink  at  sights  of  toil  and  hazard. 

And  make  the  impossibility  they  fear. 

Bows, 

The  brave  man  is  not  he  who  feels  nq  fear ; 
fi^or  that  were  stupid  and  irrational; 

But  he  whose  noble  soul  its  fear  subdues. 

And  bravely  dares  the  danger  nature  shrinks  from. 

Joanna  Baillil, 

t naw  d by  power,  and  unappall’d  by  fear. 

Goidsmi  ru 

[.et  angry  ocean  to  the  sky 

in  proud  disdain  his  billows  roll; 
ijet  thunder  to  his  threats  reply — 

Fear  is  a stranger  to  my  soul. 


Cobb. 


BRAVERY  - COl  RAGE  - FORTITUDE. 


97 


What  heart  in  either  grim  array 

Throbs  to  the  charge  with  wilder  beat  ? 

What  ‘"ar  so  loves  the  trumpet’s  bray, 

That  bids  contending  thousands  meet  ? 

Mrs.  Holforjj. 

Fate  made  me  what  I am — may  make  me  nothing, — 

But  either  that  or  nothing  must  I be ; 

I will  not  live  degraded. 

Byron’s  Sardanapalus 
His  breast  with  wounds  unnumber’d  riven, 

His  back  to  earth,  his  face  to  heaven. 

Byron’s  Giaour 

A.S  bold  as  Daniel  in  the  lions’  den. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

— The  truly  brave, 

When  they  behold  the  brave  oppress’d  with  odds. 

Are  touch’d  with  a desire  to  shield  or  save. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 
It  must  have  been 

A fearful  pang  that  wrung  a groan  from  him.  , 

Byron’s  Two  Foscari, 
And  the  repress’d  convulsion  of  the  high 
And  princely  brow  of  his  old  father,  which 
Broke  forth  in  silent  shudderings,  tho’  rarely. 

Or  in  some  clammy  drops,  soon  wiped  away 
In  stern  serenity. 

Byron’s  Two  Foscan 
— And  the  poor  wretch  mov’d  me 
More  by  his  silence,  than  a thousand  outcries 
Could  have  effected. 

Byron’s  7'wo  Foscan 
His  blade  is  bared  ; in  him  there  is  an  air 
As  deep,  but  far  too  tranquil  for  despair ; 

A something  of  indifference,  more  than  then 
Becomes  the  bravest,  if  they  feel  for  men. 


7 


Byron’s  Lara 


98 


BREVITY -BRIBERY. 


Commanding,  aiding,  animating  all. 

Where  foe  appear’d  to  press,  or  frhjnd  to  fall. 

Cheers  Lara’s  voice,  and  waves  or  strikes  his  steel, 
Inspiring  hopes,  himself  had  ceas’d  to  feel. 

Byron’s  Laid 

And  tho’  I hope  not  hence  unscath’d  to  go, 

Who  conquers  me,  shall  find  a stubborn  foe. 

Byron’s  English  Bards^  ^ c. 

There  is  a tear  for  all  vvho  die, 

A mourner  o’er  the  humblest  grave ; 

But  Nations  swell  the  funeral  cry, 

And  Triumph  weeps  above  the  brave. 

Byron. 

But  each  strikes  singly,  silently,  and  home, 

And  sinks  outwearied,  rather  than  o’ercome ; 

His  last  faint  quittance  rendering  with  his  breath, 

Till  the  blade  glimmers  in  the  grasp  of  death  ! 

Byron’s  Corsair, 

They  fought  like  brave  men,  long  and  well. 

Fitzgreen  Halleck. 

Yet,  it  ma)^  be,  more  lofty  courage  dwells 

In  one  weak  heart  which  braves  an  adverse  fate. 

Than  his,  whose  ardent  soul  indignant  swells. 

Warm’d  by  the  fight,  or  cheer’d  through  high  debate. 

Mrs.  Norton’s  Bream. 


BREVITY. — (See  Conversation.) 


BRIBERY.  — (See  Avarice.) 


BRUTE -BUILDING -CALUMNY,  &c. 


99 


V 

BRUTE.  — (See  Animal.) 


BUILDING.  — ^See  Architecture.) 


CALUMNY  — DETRACTION  — ENVY  — SLANDER,  &c 


No  wound  which  warlike  hand  of  enemy 
Inflicts  with  dint  of  sword,  so  sore  doth  light 
As  doth  the  poisonous  sting  which  infamy 
Infixeth  in  the  name  of  noble  wight ; 

For  by  no  art,  nor  any  leeches’  might 
It  ever  can  recured  bo  again. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queen, 
Who  steals  my  purse,  steals  trash ; ’t  is  something,  nothing ; 
’T  was  mine,  ’t  is  his,  and  has  been  slave  to  thousands  : 
But  he,  who  filches  from  me  my  good  name, 

Robs  me  of  that  which  not  enriches  him. 

And  makes  me  poor  indeed. 

Shakspeare. 

Be  thou  as  chaste  as  ice,  as  pure  as  snow, 

Thou  shalt  not  escape  calumny. 

Shakspeare. 

That  thou  art  blamed  shall  not  be  tby  defect ; 

For  slander’s  mark  was  ever  yet  the  fair; 

So  thou  be  good,  slander  doth  but  approve 
Thy  worth  the  greater. 

Shakspeare. 

Who  stabs  my  name,  would  stab  my  person  too, 

Did  not  the  hangman’s  axe  lie  in  the  way. 

Crown- 


For  envy  doth  invade 
Works  brea  hing  to  eternity,  and  cast 
Upon  tbe  fairest  piece  tbe  greatest  shade. 


Aleyn. 


100  CAI.UMNY  - DETRACTION  - ENVY  - SLANDER,  &c. 


So  a wild  Tartar,  when  he  spies 
A man  that’s  valiant," handsome,  wise, 

If  he  can  kill  him,  thinks  t’ inherit 
His  wit,  his  beauty,  and  his  spirit ; 

As  if  just  so  much  he  enjoy’d,  ^ 

As  in  another  is  destroy’d. 

Butler’s  Hudibrai. 

Envy’s  a sharper  spur  than  pay. 

And,  unprovok’d, ’twill  court  the  fray; 

No  author  ever  spar’d  a brother ; 

Wits  are  gamecocks  to  one  another. 

^ Gay’s  Fables. 

YFooIs  may  our  scorn,  not  envy,  raise, 

For  envy  is  a kind  of  praise. 

Gay’s  Fables. 

Who  praises  Lesbia’s  eyes  and  features, 

Must  call  her  sisters  awkward  creatures ; 

For  the  kind  flattery ’s  sure  to  charm 
When  we  some  other  nymph  disarm. 

Gay’s  Fables. 

Canst  thou  discern  another’s  mind  ? 

What  is ’t  you  envy  ? Envy ’s  blind. 

Tell  Envy,  when  she  would  annoy. 

That  thousands  want  what  you  enjoy. 

Gay’s  Fables. 

Slander’d  in  vain,  enjoy  the  spleen  of  foes ; 

Let  these  from  envj  hate — from  interest  those  ! 

Guilt,  like  the  first.,  your  gratitude  requires. 

Since  none  can  envy  till  he  first  admires ; 

And  nature  tells  the  last  his  crime  is  none, 

Who  to  your  interest  but  prefers  his  own. 

Aaron  Hill. 

Envy  will  merit,  as  its  shade,  pursue ; 

But,  like  a shadow,  proves  the  substance  true. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Critic iSm. 
Base  envy  withers  at  another’s  joy, 

A-nd  hates  that  excellence  it  cannot  reach. 

Thomson’s  Stv^sons. 


CALUMNY  - DETRACTION  - ENVY  - SLANDER,  &,c.  101 


With  that  malignant  envy,  which  grows  pale 
And  sickens,  even  if  a friend  prevail, 

Which  merit  and  success  pursues  with  hate, 

And  damns  the  worth  it  cannot  imitate. 

Churchill. 

For  every  thing  contains  within  itself 
The  seeds  and  sources  of  its  own  corruption ; 

The  cankering  rust  corrodes  the  brightest  steel ; 

The  moth  frets  out  your  garment,  and  the  worm 
Eats  its  slow  way  into  the  solid  oak : 

But  Envy,  of  all  evil  things  the  worst. 

The  same  to-da}^  to-morrow,  and  for  ever. 

Saps  and  consumes  "he  heart  in  which  it  works. 

Cumberland’s  Menander, 


Yet  even  her  tyranny  had  such  a grace. 

The  women  pardon’d  all,  except  her  face. 

Byron’s  Don  Juaru 

Curse  the  tongue 

Whence  slanderous  rumour,  like  the  adder’s  drop, 

Distils  her  venom,  withering  friendship’s  faith. 

Turning  love’s  favour. 

IIlLLHOUSE. 


The  ignoble  mind 
Loves  ever  to  assail  with  secret  blow 
The  loftier,  purer  beings  of  their  kind. 

W’’.  G.  Simms. 

As  a base  pack  of  yelping  hounds. 

Who  wish  their  betters  to  annoy. 

If  a stray  cur  enter  their  bounds. 

Will  bruise  and  mangle  and  destroy; 

So  they  will  on  some  plan  unite. 

By  w^hich  to  vex  him  and  to  spite : 

Ilis  very  virtues  they  will  use 
As  pretexts  for  their  foul  abuse. 


J.  T Watson. 


CANDOUR -CARE.  &.r 


CANDOUR.  — (See  Artifice.) 


CARE  — MELANCHOLY  — GLOOM. 

tVhy  should  a man,  whose  blood  is  warm  within, 

Sit  like  his  grandsire,  cut  in  alabaster  ? 

Shakspearr. 

Care  that  is  enter’d  once  into  the  breast, 

Will  have  the  w^hole  possession,  ere  it  rest. 

Ben  Junson. 

That  spoils  the  dance  of  youthful  biood. 

Strikes  out  the  dimple  from  the  cheek  of  mirth. 

And  ov’ry  smirking  feature  from  the  face. 

Branding  our  laughter  with  the  name  of  madness. 

Blair’s  Grave, 

The  spleen  with  sudden  vapour  clouds  the  brain. 

And  binds  the  spirits  in  its  heavy  chain  ; 

Ho\ve’er  the  cause  fantastic  may  appear, 

Th’  effect  is  real  and  the  pain  sincere. 

Blackmore. 

But  human  bodies  are  sic  fools. 

For  a’  their  colleges  and  schools. 

That,  when  nae  real  ills  perplex  them. 

They  mak  enow  themsels  to  vex  them. 

Burns, 

If  thou  wilt  think  of  moments  gone, 

Of  joys  as  exquisite  as  brief. 

Know,  mem’ry,  when  she  lingers  on 
Past  pleasure,  turns  it  all  to  grief. 

From  the  Spanish  — Bowring. 
(lO,  you  may  call  it  madness — folly — 

You  shall  not  chase  my  gloom  away ; 

I’here ’s  such  a charm  in  melancholy, 

I would  not,  if  ^ could,  be  gay ! 


Rogers. 


CARE  - MELANCHOLY  - GLOOM. 


103 


Melancholy 

Sits  on  me  as  a cloud  along  the  sky, 

Which  will  not  le'  the  sunbeams  through,  nor  yet 
Descend  in  rain,  and  end  ; but  spreads  itself 
’Tw'xt  heav’n  and  earth,  like  Envy  between  man 
And  man — and  is  an  everlasting  mist. 

Byro& 

And  if  I laugh  at  any  mortal  thing, 

’T  is  that  I may  not  weep ; and  if  I weep, 

’T  is  that  our  nature  cailnot  always  bring 
Itself  to  apathy,  which  we  must  steep 
First  in  the  icy  depths  of  Lethe’s  spring. 

Ere  what  we  least  wish  to  behold  will  sleep. 

Byron’s  Bon  Jium. 

But  can  the  noble  mind  for  ever  brood. 

The  willing  victim  of  a weary  mood. 

On  heartless  cares  that  squander  life  away, 

4nd  cloud  young  Genius  bright’ning  into  day  ? 

Campbell. 

’T  vvas  thus  in  Nature’s  bloom  and  solitude, 

He  nurs’d  his  grief  till  nothing  could  assuage ; 

’Twas  thus  his  tender  spirit  was  subdued. 

Till  in  life’s  toils  it  could  no  more  engage. 

Carlos  Wilcox, 

Come,  rouse  thee,  dearest : ’t  is  not  well 
To  let  the  spirit  brood 
Thus  darkly  o’er  the  cares  that  swell 
Life’s  current  to  a flood. 

As  brooks  and  torrents,  rivers,  all 
Increase  the  gulf  in  which  they  fall. 

Such  thoughts,  by  gathering  up  the  rids 
Of  lesser  griefs,  spread  real  ills  ; 

And  with  their  gloomy  shades  conceal 
The  landmarks  Hope  would  else  reveaL 


Mrs.  Dinnieii 


104 


CARE  - MELANCnOT.Y- GLOOM. 


Blame  not,  if  oft,  in  melancholy  mood, 

This  theme  too  far  such  fancy  hath  pursur*d ; 

And  if  the  soul,  which  high  with  hope  should  beat. 

Turns  to  the  gloom}  grave’s  unblest  leireat. 

Robert  Sanbi 

Oh  ! it  is  hard  to  put  the  heart 
Alone  and  desolate  away — 

To  curl  the  lip  in  pride,  and  part 
With  the  kind  thoughts  of  vt^sterday. 

N.  P. 

Strange  that  the  love-lorn  heart  will  beat 
With  rapture  wide  amid  its  folly; — 

No  grief  so  soft,  no  pain  so  sweet 
As  love’s  delicious  melancholy. 

Mrs.  a.  B.  Welb?, 

O ! dark  is  the  gloom  o’er  my  young  spirit  stealing  ! 

Then  why  should  I linger  when  others  are  gay  ? — 

The  smile  that  I wear,  is  but  worn  for  concealing 
A heart,  that  is  wasting  in  sadness  away. 

Mrs.  a.  B.  Welby, 

Alas,  for  my  weary  and  care-haunted  bosom ! 

The  spells  of  the  spring-time  arouse  it  no  more ; 

The  song  in  the  wildwood,  the  sheen  in  the  blossom, 

The  fresh-swelling  fountain — their  magic  is  o’er  \ 

When  I list  to  the  stream,  when  I look  on  the  flowers. 
They  tell  of  the  Past,  with  so  mournful  a tone. 

That  I call  up  the  throngs  of  my  long-vanish’d  hours. 

And  sigh  that  their  transports  are  over  and  gone. 

Willis  Gaylord  ( lark. 
How' vain  a task,  to  wake  my  lyre 
To  rapture’s  thrill,  with  passion’s  fire. 

While  sorrow  o’er  my  heart-strings  plays. 

With  trembling  touch,  her  saddest  lays ! 

Mrs.  r)sGOOD. 

Pale  Care  now  sits  enthron’d  upon  that  cheek, 
sVnere  rosy  Health  did  erst  her  empire  hold. 

J.  T.  Wai»iii« 


CAUTION  - DISCRETION  - PRUDENCE. 


105 


CAUTION  — DISCRETION  — PRUDENCE. 


But  now,  so  wise  and  wary  was  the  knight, 

By  trial  of  his  former  harms  and  cares. 

That  he  decry’d,  and  shunned  still  his  sight : 

The  fish,  that  once  was  caught,  new  bait  will  hardly  bite, 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queen, 
They,  that  fear  the  adder’s  sting,  will  not 
Come  near  his  hissing. 

Chapman. 

Look  forward  what ’s  to  come,  and  back  what ’s  past ; 

Thy  life  will  be  with  praise  and  prudence  grac’d  : 

What  loss  or  gain  may  follow,  thou  may’st  guess ; 

Thou  then  wilt  be  secure  of  the  success. 

Den  HA  N. 


The  better  part  of  valour  is  discretion. 


Shakspearj?; 


When  clouds  are  seen,  wise  men  put  on  their  cloaks. 

Shakspeah® 

Prudence  ! thou  vainly  in  our  youth  art  sought, 

And,  with  age  purchas’d,  art  too  dearly  bought  ;~ 

We  ’re  past  the  use  of  wit,  for  which  we  toil. 

Late  fruit,  and  planted  in  too  cold  a soil. 

Dryden  , 

None  pities  him  that’s  in  the  snare, 

And,  warn’d  before,  would  not  beware. 

Herrick. 

Man’s  caution  often  into  danger  turns. 

And  his  guard,  falling,  crushes  him  to  death. 

Young, 

He  knows  the  compass,  sail  and  oar, 

Or  never  launches  from  the  shore  *, 

Before  he  builds  computes  the  cost. 

And  in  no  proud  pursuit  is  \ok 


Gay’s  Fuhha, 


106 


CELIBACY  - CHASTITY. 


Woula  you,  when  thieves  are  known  abroad, 

Bring  forth  your  treasures  in  the  road  ? 

Would  not  the  fool  abet  the  stealth, 

Who  rashly  thus  expos’d  his  wealth  ? 

Gay’s  Fables, 

The  mouse,  that  always  trusts  to  one  poor  hole, 

Can  never  be  a mouse  of  any  soul. 

Pope. 


All’s  to  be  fear’d  where  all  is  to  be  lost. 


Byron’s  Werner. 


CELIBACY  — CHASTITY. 


But  earlier  happy  is  the  rose  distill’d. 

Than  that,  which,  withering  on  the  virgin  thom, 

Grows,  lives  and  dies  in  single  blessedness. 

Shakspeare  , 


Chaste  as  the  icicle 

That’s  curdled  by  the  frost  of  purest  snow. 

And  hangs  on  Dian’s  tt^ple. 

Shakspeare. 


Lady,  you  are  the  cruelest  she  alive, 

If  you  will  lead  those  graces  to  the  grave, 

And  leave  the  world  no  copy. 

SlIAKSFEARE. 

So  dear  to  heaven  i.s  saintly  chastity,' 

That  when  a soul  is  found, sincerely  so, 

A thousand  liv’ried  angels  lacquey  her. 

Driving  far  od’  each  thing  of  sin  and  guilt. 

I\Jii  ton’s  Comns, 

Our  Maker  bids  increase  ; who  bids  abstain 
But  our  destroyer,  foe  to  God  and  man? 

Milton’s  Paradise  IjOst. 


There  swims  no  goose  so  grey,  but,  soon  or  .ate, 
She  finds  some  honest  gander  for  a mate. 


Pops. 


CELIBACY  - CH  ASTITA . 


107 


Mosi  womeh  ^veak  resolves,  like,  reeds,  will  fly, 

Shake  with  each  breath,  and  bend  with  every  sigh ; 

Mine,  like  an  oak  whose  firm  roots  deep  descend, 

Nor  breath  of  love  can  shake,  nor  sigh  can  bend. 

Gay  8 Dione, 


When  lovely  woman  stoops  to  folly. 

And  finds  too  late  that  men  betray. 

What  charm  can  soothe  her  melancholy  ? 

What  art  can  wash  her  guilt  away  ?— 

The  only  way  her  guilt  to  cover. 

To  hide  her  shame  from  every  eye, 

To  give  repentance  to  her  lover. 

And  wring  his  bosom — is  to  die, 

GwbsDSMITH. 

(f  I am  fair,  ’t  is  for  myself  alone ; 

I do  not  wish  to  have  a sweetheart  neai  me, 

Nor  would  I call  another’s  heart  my  own, 

Nor  have  a gallant  lover  to  revere  me ; 

For  surely  I would  plight  my  faith  to  none. 

Though  many  an  amorous  cit  might  jump  to  hear  me : 
For  I have  heard  that  lovers  prove  deceivers. 

When  once  they  find  that  maidens  are  believers. 

From  Michel  Angelo. 

Her  bosom  was . a soft  retreat 
For  love  and  love  alone. 

And  yet  her  heart  had  never  beat 
To  love’s  delicious  tone. 

It  dwelt  within  its  circle,  free 
. From  tender  thoughts  like  these. 

Waiting  the  little  deity. 

As  the  blossom  waits  the  breeze, 

Before  it  thro  vs  the  leaves  apart. 

And  trembles,  like  the  love-touch’d  heart. 

Mrs.  Amkzja  B.  Welby.  ' 


108 


CEREMONY  - CHANCE  - FORTUNE. 


For  who  would  bear  the  whips  and  thorns  of  douT)t, 

The  oppressor’s  wrong,  the  old  maid’s  contumely, 

The  pangs  of  untold  love,  the  priest’s  delay, 

The  insolence  of  rivals,  and  the  sneers 
That  bachelors  from  womankind  must  take — 

But  that  the  dread  of  something  after  marriage. 

That  yet  untried  condition,  from  whose  bonds 
No  victim  can  be  freed,  puzzles  the  will. 

And  makes  us  rather  bear  the  life  we  have 
Than  risk  another  that  we  know  not  of? 

J.  T.  Watsom 


CEREMONY. 

Ceremony  was  devised  at  first 

To  set  a gloss  on  faint  deeds — hollow  welcomes, 

Recanting  goodness,  sorry  e’er ’t  is  shown ; 

But  where  there  is  true  friendship,  there*  needs  none. 

Shakspeark. 

Then  Ceremony  leads  her  bigots  forth 
Prepar’d  to  fight  for  shadows  of  no  worth  ; 

While  truths,  on  which  eternal  things  depend, 

Find  not,  or  hardly  find,  a single  friend. 

As  soldiers  watch  the  signal  of  command, 

They  learn  to  bow,  to  sit,  to  kneel,  to  stand ; 

Happy  to  fill  religion’s  vacant  place 
With  hollow  form,  and  gesture,  and  grimace. 

CoWPlE. 


CHANCE  — FORTUNE. 

^ There  is  a tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 

That,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune , 
Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
R bound  in  shillows  and  in  miseries. 


Shakspeark 


CHANCE  - FORTUNE. 


109 


Will  fortune  never  come  with  both  hands  full. 

But  write  her  fair  words  still  in  foulest  letters  ? 

She  either  gives  a stomach,  and  no  food, — 

Such  are  the  poor  in  health  ; or  else  a feast, 

And  takes  away  the  stomach — such  the  rich, 

That  nave  abundance  and  enjoy  it  not. 

Shakspfarb 

An  eagle,  towering  in  his  pride  of  place. 

Was  by  a mousing  owl  hawk’d  at,  and  kill’d. 

Shakspeare, 

Fortune,  the  great  commandress  of  the  world. 

Hath  divers  ways  to  enrich  her  followers : 

To  some  she  honour  gives  without  deserving ; 

To  other  some,  deserving  without  honour ; 

Some,  wit — some,  wealth — and  some,  wit  without  wealth  ; 
Some,  wealth  without  wit — some,  nor  wit  nor  wealth. 

Chapman. 

Let  not  one  look  of  fortune  cast  you  dov.m ; 

She  were  not  fortune,  if  she  did  not  frown : 

Such  as  do  braveliest  bear  her  scorns  awhile. 

Are  those  on  whom  at  last  she  most  will  smile. 

Lord  Orrert. 

Be  juster,  heav’ns ! such  virtue  punish’d  thus. 

Will  make  us  think  that  Chance  rules  all  above. 

And  shuffles,  with  a random  hand,  the  lots 
Which  men  are  forc’d  to  draw. 

Dryden. 

Alas  ! the  joys  that  fortune  brings 
Are  trifling,  and  decay. 

And  those  who  prize  the  paltry  things, 

More  trifling  still  than  they. 

Goldsmith 

Fortune  in  men  has  some  small  difference  made : 

One  flaunts  in  rags,  one  flutters  in  brocade. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man. 


no 


f'HANGE  - VICISSITIIOR. 


Fortune  makes  quic,k  despatch,  and  in  a day 
May  strip  you  bare  as  beggary  itself. 

Cumberland’s  Phileni'  n 
All  our  advantages  are  those  of  fortune ; 

Birth,  health,  wealth,  beauty,  are  her  accidents; 

And  fortune  can  take  nought  save  what  she  gives. 

Byron’s  Two  Foscaii, 

Oh,  many  a shaft,  at  random  sent, 

Finds  mark  the  archer  little  meant ; 

And  many  a word,  at  random  spoken. 

May  soothe  or  wound  a heart  that ’s  broken 

Scott 


CHANGE  — VICISSITUDE. 

For  all,  that  in  this  world  is  great  or  gay, 

Doth,  as  a vapour,  vanish  and  decay. 

Spenser’s  Ruins  of  Time. 
Thus  doth  the  ever-changing  course  of  things 
Run  a perpetual  circle,  ever  turning ; 

And  that  same  day,  that  highest  glory  brings. 

Brings  us  unto  the  point  of  back-returning, 

Daniel  . 

Is  there  no  constancy  in  earthly  things  ? 

No  happiness  in  us,  but  what  must  alter  ? 

No  life  without  the  heavy  load  of  fortune  ? 

What  miseries  we  are,  and  to  ourselves ! 

Even  then,  when  full  content  seems  to  sit  by  us, 

What  daily  sores  and  sorrows ! 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 
But  yesterday  the  word  of  Caesar  might 
Have  stood  against  the  world  ; now  lies  he  there. 

And  none  so  poor  to  do  him  reverence. 


Shakspeare, 


CHANGE  - VICISSITUDE. 


Ill 


The  time  has  been,  when  no  harsh  sounds  would  fall 
From  lips  that  now  may  seem  imbued  with  gall ; 

But  now  so  callous  grown,  so  chang’d  since  youth, 

I ’ve  iearn’d  to  think,  and  sternly  speak  the  truth. 

Byron’s  English  Bards^  ^ 
Gone,  glimm’ring  thro’  the  dreams  of  things  that  were 
A schoolboy’s  tale — the  wonder  of  an  hour. 

Byron’s  Childt  Harold, 
How  chang’d  since  last  her  speaking  eye 
Glanc’d  gkiness  round  the  gliti’ring  room; 

Where  high-born  men  were  proud  to  wait, 

Where  beauty  watch’d  to  imitate  ! 

Byron’s  Parisina 

A minute  past,  and  she  had  been  all  tears, 

And  tenderness,  and  infancy ; but  now 
She  stood  as  one  who  champion’d  human  fears : — 

Pale,  statue-like,  and  stern,  she  woo’d  the  blow. 

Byron’s  Bon  Juaji. 

Roses  bloom,  and  then  they  wither, 

Cheeks  are  bright,  then  fade  and  die  ; 

Shapes  of  light  are  wafted  hither, 

Then  like  visions  hurry  by. 

J.  G.  Percivai., 

Ah  me ! wha  is  there  in  earth’s  various  range. 

Which  time  and  absence  may  not  sadly  change  ? 

Sands 

But  while  the  glitter  charms  our  gazing  eyes. 

Its  wings  are  folded,  and  the  meteor  dies. 

Robert  Treat  Paine. 

Change  is  written  on  the  tide, 

On  the  forest’s  leafy  pride ; 

On  the  streamlet  glancing  bright, 

On  the  jewell’d  crown  of  night; — 

All,  where’er  the  eye  can  rest. 

Show  it  legibly  imprest 


Ret,  J.  H.  Clinch 


CHARACTER -DISPOSITION,  Alc. 


There  are  no  birds  in  last  year’s  nest. 

H.  W.  LoNOhELrcw 

Your  coldness  I heed  not,  your  frown  I defy; 

Your  affection  I need  not — the  time  has  gone  by, 

When  a blu^h  or  a smile  on  that  cheek  could  beguile 
My  soul  froin  its  safety,  with  witchery’s  wile. 

Mrs.  Osgood. 

Oh  ! whai  a change  comes  over  that  sad  heart ! 

Where  all  was  joyous,  light,  and  free  from  care, 

All  thoughts  of  peace  do  for  a time  depart. 

And  yield  to  rage,  and  anguish,  and  despair ! 

J.  T.  Watson. 


CHARACTER  — DISPOSITION,  &c 

He  was  a man  of  rare,  undoubted  might. 

Famous  throughout  the  world  for  warlike  praise, 

And  glorious  spoils  purchas’d  in  perilous  fight ; 

Full  many  doughty  knights  he,  in  his  days. 

Had  done  to  death,  subdued  in  equal  frays. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queen. 
With  eyes  severe,  and  beard  of  formal  cut. 

Full  of  wise  saws,  and  modern  instances. 

Shakbpeare. 

Who  steals  my  purse,  steals  trash ; ’tis  something,  nothing, 
’T  was  mine,  ’t  is  his,  and  has  been  slave  to  thousands ; 

But  he,  who  filches  from  me  my  good  name, 

Robs  me  of  that  which  not  enriches  him, 

And  makes  me  poor  indeed. 

Shakspearjj 

The  purest  treasure  mortal  times  afford, 

Is  spotless  reputation  ; that  away. 

Men  are  but  gilded  loam,  or  painted  clay. 

Shakspeare 


CHARACTER  - DISPOSITION,  &c. 


113 


iDTtiats  are  unnotic’d,  wheresoe’er  they  fly. 

But  eagles  gaz’d  upon  with  ev’ry  eye. 

Shakspearb 

fr.  aii  thy  humours,  whether  g^ave  or  mellow, 

Thou’rt  such  a touchy,  testy,  pleasant  fellow, 

Hast  so  much  wit  and  mirth,  and  spleen  about  thee, 

There  is  no  living  with  thee,  nor  without  thee. 

From  Mautial. 

With  warlike  sword,  and  sing-song  lay, 

Equipp’d  alike  for  feast  or  fray. 

Trumbull’s  McFmgal. 

I’hough  gay  as  mirth,  as  curious  thought  sedate  ; 

As  elegance  polite,  as  power  elate ; 

Profound  as  reason,  and  as  justice  clear ; 

Soft  as  compassion,  yet  as  truth  severe, 

Savaoe. 

Without,  or  with,  offence  to  friends  or  foes, 
i sketch  the  world  exactly  as  it  goes. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

Cold-blooded,  smooth-fac’d,  pkeid  miscr5x:nl:. 

Bi^ron’s  Don  Jimn. 
Here ’s  a sigh  for  those  who  love  me. 

And  a smile  for  those  who  hate  4 
And,  whatever  sky’s  above  me, 

Here  ’s  a heart  for  ev’iy  fate. 

Byron. 

With  more  oapacity  for  love,  than  oarth 
Bestows  on  most  of  mortai  mould  and  birth. 

His  early  dreams  of  good  outstripp’d  the  truth, 

And  troubled  manhood  follow’d  bafliecl  youth. 

Byron’s  Ijara, 

Ctuick  in  revenge,  and  passionately  proud, 

His  brightest  hour  still  shone  forth  fmm  a cloud  5 
And  none  conjecture  on  the  next  could  form, — 

Bo  play’d  the  sunbeam  on  the  verge  of  storm. 

The  New  Titnoa. 

£ 


114 


CHARITY. 


it  was  not  mirth — for  mirth  she  was  too  still ; 

It  was  not  wit — wit  leaves  the  heart  more  chill : 

But  that  continuous  sweetness,  which  with  ease 
Pleases  all  round  it,  from  the  wish  to  please. 

The  New  Timon 

The  dark  grave. 

Which  knows  all  secrets,  can  alone  reclaim 
The  fatal  doubt  once  cast  on  woman’s  name, 

Hon.  W.  Herbert 

Devoted,  anxious,  generous,  void  of  guile, 

And  with  her  whole  heart’s  welcome  in  her  smile.  ^ 

Mrs.  Morton 


CHARITY. 

The  secret  pleasure  of  a generous  act 
Is  the  great  mind’s  great  bribe. 

Dry  DEN. 

In  faith  and  hope  the  world  will  disagree,/ 

But  ail  mankind’s  concern’d  in  charity ; 

All  must  be  false,  that  thwart  this  one  great  end  ; 

And  all  of  God,  that  bless  mankind,  or  mend. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  j\Ian 
There  are,  while  human  miseries  abound, 

A thousand  wa^^s  to  waste  superfluous  wealth, 

Without  one  fool  or  flatterer  at  our  board. 

Without  one  hour  of  sickness  or  disgust. 

Armstrong. 

Let  shining  Charity  adorn  your  zeal. 

The  noblest  impulse  generous  minds  can  feel. 

Aaron  Hcll. 

The  truly  generous  is  the  truly  wise ; 

And  he,  viho  loves  not  others,  lives  unblest. 

Home  s Dottglas^. 


CHASTITY  - CHEERFULNESS  - MIRTH,  &c 


115 


And  learn  the  luxury  of  doing  good. 

Goldsmith’s  I'S'uveller 
True  charity,  a plant  divinely  nurs’d, 

Fed  by  the  love  from  which  it  rose  at  first, 

Thrives  against  hope,  and,  in  the  rudest  scenO; 

Storms  but  enliven  its  unfading  green ; 

Exuberant  in  the  shadow  it  supplies, 

Its  fruit  on  earth,  its  growth  above  the  skies. 

CoWPEfl 

The  drying  up  a single  tear  has  more 
Of  honest  fame,  than  shedding  seas  of  gore. 

Byron’s  Don  Jiian 
Unfee’d,  the  calls  of  nature  she  obeys. 

Not  led  by  profit,  nor  allur’d  by  praise. 

Crabbe 

Would’st  thou  from  sorrow  find  a sweet  relief. 

Or  is  thy  heart  oppress’d  with  woe  untold  ? 

Balm  would’st  thou  gather  for  corroding  grief? — 

Pour  blessings  round  thee,  like  a shower  of  gold. 

Carlos  Wilcox. 

The  ear,  inclin’d  to  ev’ry  voice  of  grief, 

The  hand  that  op’d  spontaneous  to  relief, 

The  heart,  whose  impulse  stay’d  not  for  the  mi  id 
'Vo  freeze  to  doubt  what  Charity  enjoin’d, 

But  sprang  to  man’s  warm  instinct  for  mankind 

The  New  Tirnon. 


CHASTITY. — ^(See  Celibacy.) 


CHEERFULNESS  — MIRTH  — SMILE,  &c. 
A merrier  man, 

Within  the  limits  of  becoming  mirth. 

I neve  - spent  an  hou  '’s  talk  withal. 


SHAKSPz.ARa. 


116 


CHEEKFULNESS  - MIRTH  - SMILE,  Slc 


And  therein  sale  a lad}^  fresh  and  fair, 

Making  sweet  solace  to  herself  alone  , 

Sometimes  she  sung  as  loud  as  lark  in  air, 

Sometimes  she  laugh’d  that  nigh  her  breath  was  gone 
Yet  was  there  not  with  her  else  any  one. 

That  to  her  might  move  cause  of  merriment ; 

Matter  of  mirth  enough,  though  there  was  none, 

She  could  divine ; and  thousand  ways  invent 
To  feed  her  foolish  humour  and  vain  jolliment. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queen 

Which,  when  I saw  rehears’d,  I must  confess. 

Made  my  eyes  water,  but  more  merry  tears 
The  passion  of  loud  laughter  never  shed. 

Shakspeare 

With  mirth  and  laughter  let  old  wrinkles  come, 

And  let  my  liver  rather  heat  with  wine. 

Than  my  heart  cool  with  mortifying  gloom. 

Shakspeare 

Fantastic,  frolicsome,  and  wild. 

With  all  the  trinkets  of  a child. 

Cotton 

And  the  loud  laugh,  that  spoke  the  vacant  mind. 

Goldsmith 

In  short,  so  provoking  a devil  was  Dick, 

That  we  wish’d  him  full  ten  times  a day  at  Old  Nick; 
Silt,  missing  his  mirth  and  agreeable  vein. 

As  often  we  wish’d  to  have  Dick  back  again. 

Goldsmith’s  Retaliation* 

Rare  compound  of  oddity,  frolic  and  fun, 

Wnc  relish’d  a joke,  and  rejoic’d  in  a pun. 

Goldsmith’s  Retaliation* 

Full  well  they  laugh’d,  with  counterfeited  glee, 

/Vl  all  his  jokes,  for  many  a joke  had  he. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  Tllla^.* 


CHEERFULNESS  - MIRTH  SMILE, 


117 


Eternal  smiles  his  emptiness  betray, 

As  shallow  streams  run  dimpling  all  the  way. 

. Pope. 

Sport,  that  wrinkled  Care  derides, 

And  Laughter,  holding  both  his  sides. 

Milton 

Lively  and  gossiping. 

Stor’d  with  the  treasures  of  the  tattling  world, 

And  with  a spice  of  mirth  too. 

COWPER. 


Nor  purpose  gay. 

Amusement,  dance,  or  song,  he  sternly  sees, 

Fo^  happiness  and  true  philosophy 
Are  of  the  social,  still,  and  smiling  kind. 

Thomson’s  Seasojis, 


For  ever  foremost  in  the  ranks  of  fun. 

The  laughing  herald  of  the  harmless  pun. 

Byron 


Not  oft  to  smile  descendeth  he. 

And  when  he  does,  ’t  is  sad  to  see 
That  he  but  mocks  at  misery. 

Byron’s  Giaow 

And  yet,  methinks,  the  older  that  one  grows. 

Inclines  us  more  to  laugh  than  scold,  tho’  laughter 
Leaves  us  so  doubly  serious  shortly  after. 

Byron’s  BepM 

He  is  so  full  of  pleasing  anecdote, 

So  rich,  so  gay,  so  poignant  in  his  wit. 

Time  vanishes  before  him  as  he  speaks. 

Joanna  Baillib 

\V  ere  it  not  worse  than  vain,  to  close  our  eyes 
Unto  the  azure  sky  and  golden  light. 

Because  the  tempest-cloud  doth  sometimes  rise. 

And  glorious  davs  must  darken  into  night? 

Douglas  Jerrold’s  Magazim 


118 


CHEERFULNESS  - MIRTH  - SMILE,  &c. 


See  how  the  day  beameth  brightly  before  us*  ? 

Blue  is  the  firmament,  green  is  the  earth  ; 

Grief  hath  no  voice  in  the  universe  chorus; 

Nature  is  ringing  with  music  and  mirth. 

Lift  up  thy  eyes,  that  are  looking  in  sadness ; 

Gaze  ! and,  if  beauty  can  rapture  thy  soul, 

Virtue  herself  shall  allure  thee  to  gladness — 

Gladness  ! philosophy’s  guardian  and  goal. 

From  the  Gennajx. 

But  then  her  face. 

So  lovely,  yet  so  arch — so  full  of  mirth. 

The  overflowing  of  an  innocent  heart ; — 

It  haunts  me  still,  though  many  a year  has  fled, 

Like  some  wild  melody. 

Rogers’  Itidy. 

Light  be  thy  heart ! why  should’st  thou  keep 
Sadne^  within  its  secret  cells  ? 

Let  not  thine  eye  one  tear-drop  weep. 

Unless  that  tear  of  rapture  tells. 

Mrs.  a B.  W elby 

It  gives  to  beauty  half  its  power. 

The  nameless  charm,  worth  all  the  rest — ^ 

The  light  that  dances  o’er  a face. 

And  speaks  of  sunshine  in  the  breast. 

If  beauty  ne’er  have  set  her  seal. 

It  will  supply  her  absence  too, 

And  many  a cheek  looks  passing  fair. 

Because  a merry  heart  shines  through. 

How  beautiful  the  smile 
Or.  beauty’s  brow,  in  beauty’s  eye. 

When  not  one  token  lingers  nigh. 

On  lip,  or  eye,  or  cheek  unbidden. 

To  tell  of  anguish  vainly  hidden! 


J.  G.  W HITTIE£. 


CHILDHOOD  - YOUTH. 


119 


But  Oh,  there  is  a smile,  which  steals 
Sometimes  upon  the  brow  of  care, 

And,  like  the  north’s  cold  light,  reveals 
But  gathering  darkness  there  1 

J.  G.  Whittier, 

Joy,  like  the  zephyr  that  flies  o’er  the  flower. 

Rippling  into  it  fresh  fairness  each  hour, — 

Joy  has  wav’d  o’er  thee  his  sun-woven  wing. 

And  dimpled  thy  cheek  like  the  roses  of  spring. 

Mrs,  Osoood* 

Tell  me  not,  in  mournful  numbers, 

Life  is  but  an  empty  dream ! 

For  the  soul  is  dead  that  slumbers, 

And  things  are  not  what  they  seem. 

H.  W.  Longfellow. 

A little  nonsense,  now  and  then. 

Is  relish’d  by  the  best  of  men. 


CHILDHOOD  — YOUTH. 

For  youth  no  less  becomes 
The  light  and  careless  livery  that  it  wears, 

Than  settled  age  his  sables,  and  his  weeds 
Importing  health  and  graveness, 

SnAKSPEARE 

I ’ll  serve  his  youth,  for  youth  must  have  its  course, 

For  being  restrain’d  it  makes  him  ten  times  worse; 

His  pride,  his  riot,  all  that  may  be  nam’d. 

By  time ’s  recall’d,  and  all  his  madness  tam’d. 

Shakspeare, 

The  whining  schoobboy  with  his  satchel. 

And  shining  morning  face,  creeping  like  snail 
Unwillingly  to  school. 


Shakspeare. 


120 


CHILnriOOD- YOUTfl. 


Delightful  task  ! to  rear  the  tender  thought. 

To  teach  the  young  idea  hoiv  to  shoot, 

To  pour  the  fresh  instruction  o’er  the  mind. 

To  breathe  the  enlivening  spirit,  and  to  fix 
The  generous  purpose  in  the  glowing  breasL ! 

Thomson’s  Seaso*i9. 

Gather  the  rose-buds  while  ye  may, 

Old  time  is  still  a-flying, 

And  that  same  flower  that  blooms  to-day 
To-morrow  shall  be  dying. 

IIerricr. 

Something  of  youth  T in  old  age  approve ; 

But  more  the  marks  of  age  in  youth  I love 
Who  this  observes  may  in  his  body  find 
Decrepit  age,  but  never  in  his  mind. 

Denham. 

Intemperate  youth,  by  sad  experience  found. 

Ends  in  an  age  imperfect  and  unsound. 

Denham, 

Youth  is  ever  apt  to  judge  in  haste. 

And  lose  the  medium  in  the  wild  extreme. 

Aaron  Hill. 

Young  men  soon  give  and  soon  forget  affronts ; 

Old  age  is  slow  in  both. 

Addison’s  Cato 

Happy  the  school-boy  ! did  he  know  his  bliss, 

’ T were  ill  exchang’d  for  all  the  dazzling  gems 
That  gaily  sparkle  in  ambition’s  eye : 

His  are  the  joys  of  nature,  his  the  smile. 

The  cherub  smile  of  innocence  and  health, 

Sorrow  unknown,  or,  if  a tear  be  shed, 

He  wipes  it  soon. 

Knox 

By  sports  like  these  are  all  their  eares  beguil’d ; 

The  sports  of  children  satisfy  the  child. 


Goldsmith. 


CHILDHOOD  - YOUTH. 


121 


The  tear  down  childhood's  cheeL  that  flows, 

Is  like  the  dew-drop  on  the  rose  ; 

When  next  the  summer  breeze  comes  by, 

And  waves  the  bush,  the  flower  is  dry. 

Scott’s 

There  still  are  many  rainbows  in  your  sky, 

But  mine  are  vanish’d.  Ail,  when  life  is  new, 
Commence  with  feelings  warm  and  prospects  high, 

Bni  Time  strips  our  illusions  of  their  hue. 

Byron’s  Bon  Juan. 

A lovely  being,  scarcely  form’d  or  moulded, 

A rose  with  all  its  sweetest  leaves  yet  folded 

Byron’s  Bon 

Sweet  be  thy  cradled  slumbers  ! O’er  the  sea 
And  from  the  mountains  where  I now  respire. 

Fain  would  I waft  such  blessings  upon  thee. 

As  with  a sigh  I deem’d  thou  mightst  have  been  to  me. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
The  helpless  look  of  blooming  infancy. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 
Full  swells  the  deep  pure  fountain  of  young  life. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
Oh  mirth  and  innocence  ! Oh  milk  and  water ! 

Ye  happy  mixtures  of  more  happy  days  ! 

Byron’s  Beppo, 

A little  curly-headed  good-for-nothing. 

And  mischief-making  monkey  from  his  birth. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

The  babe. 

Who,  capable  of  no  articulate  sound. 

Mars  all  things  with  his  imitative  lisp. 

Rogers. 

Thine  was  the  shout ! the  song  ! the  burst  oi  joy  ! 

Which  sweet  from  childhood’s  rosy  lip  resoundeth ; 
Thine  was  the  eager  spirit  nought  could  cloy, 

And  the  glad  heart  from  which  all  grief  reboundeth. 

M Rs.  Norton. 


122 


CHIVALRY. 


Tlie  }oi  ng!  Oh!  what  should  wandering  fancy  bring, 

In  life’s  first  spring-time,  but  the  thoughts  of  spring  ?— 
Wor.d  without  winter,  blooming  amaranth  bowers. 
Garlands  of  brightness,  wreath’d  from  changeless  fluwett  ? 

Mrs.  Norton’s  Dream 
It  lay  upon  its  mother’s  breast,  a thing 

Bright  as  a dew-drop  when  it  first  descends, 

Or  as  the  plumage  of  an  angel’s  wing, 

Where  every  tint  of  rainbow  beauty  blends. 

Mrs.  a.  B.  Wei.by, 

I sported  in  my  tender  mother’s  arms, 

I rode  a-horseback  on  my  father’s  knee ; 

Alike  were  sorrows,  passions  and  alarms. 

And  gold,  and  Greek,  and  love,  unknown  to  me. 

Longfellow — From  the  Danish 
Oh ! what  a world  of  beauty  fades  away 
With  the  wing’d  hours  of  youth  1 

Dawes’  Geraldine, 

Our  early  days  ! — How  often  back 
We  turn  on  life’s  bewildering  track 
To  where,  o’er  hill  and  valley,  plays 
The  sunlight  of  our  early  days ! 

W.  D.  Gallagher. 


CHIVALRY. 

Most  fair. 

Will  you  vouchsafe  to  teach  a soldier  terms. 

Such  as  will  enter  at  a lady’s  ear, 

And  plead  his  love-suit  to  her  gentle  heart  ? 

Shakspearr 

I do  not  think  a braver  gentleman. 

More  active-valiant,  or  more  valiant-young. 

More  daring,  or  more  noble,  is  now  alive. 

To  grace  this  latter  age  with  noble  deeds. 


Shakspeare. 


CHURCH -CLERGY,  &c. 


123 


Could  deeds  rny  heart  discover, 

Could  valour  gain  your  charms, 

I ’d  prove  myself  a lover 
Ajjainsi  a world  in  arms. 

Old  Song 

A form  more  active,  light  and  strong, 

Ne’er  shot  the  ranks  of  war  along ; 

The  modest,  yet  the  manly  mien. 

Might  grace  the 'court  of  maiden  queen. 

ScOTl. 


CHURCH — CLERGY,  &c. 

Do  not,  as  some  ungracious  pastors  do, 

Show  me  the  steep  and  thorny  way  fo  heaven, 

Whilst,  like  a puff’d  and  reckless  libertine, 

Himself  the  primrose  path  of  dalliance  treads. 

And  recks  not  his  own  road. 

Shakspeark. 

He  could  raise  scruples  dark  and  nice. 

And,  after,  solve  ’em  in  a trice ; 

As  if  divinity  had  catch’d 

The  itch  on  purpose  to  be  scratch’d. 

, Butler’s  Hudibras. 

The  proud  he  tam’d,  the  penitent  he  cheer’d. 

Nor  to  rebuke  the  rich  offender  rear'd  ; 

His  preaching  much,  but  more  his  practice  wrought 
A living  sermon  of  the  truths  he  taught 

Dryden. 

At  church  with  meek  and  unaffected  grace. 

His  looks  adorr ’d  the  venerable  place  ; 

Truth  from  his  lips  prevail’d  with  double  sway. 

And  fools,  who  came  to  scoff,  remain’d  to  pray. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  Village. 
Such  vast  impressions  aiU  his  sermons  make. 

He  always  kept  his  flock  awake. 

Dr.  Wolcot’p  Petei  Pindar, 


124 


dfiATl- SMOKING. 


I venerate  the  man  whose  heart  is  warm, 

Whose  hands  are  pure,  whose  doctrines  and  whose  lile 
Coincident,  exhibit  lucid  proof 
That  he  is  honest  in  the  sacred  cause. 

Cowper’s  Tuiik 

Some  go  to  church  just  for  a walk, 

Some  go  there  to  laugh  and  talk, 

Some  go  there  the  time  to  spend, 

Some  go  there  to  meet  a friend. 

Some  go  to  learn  the  parson’s  name. 

Some  go  there  to  wound  his  fame,  y 
Some  go  there  for  speculation. 

Some  go  there  for  observation. 

Some  go  there  to  doze  and  nod, 

But  few  go  there  to  worship  God, 


CIGAR  — SMOKING. 

In  mind  compos’d,  he  sucks  : thick  curling  clouda 
Of  smoke  around  his  reeking  temples  play. 

Joyous  he  sits,  and,  impotent  of  thought. 

Puffs  away  * are  and  sorrow  from  his  heart. 

SOMERVILE. 

Thy  quie'  spirit  lulls  the  lab’ring  brain. 

Lures  back  to  thought  the  flights  of  vacant  mirth ; 
Consoles  the  mourner,  soothes  the  couch  of  pain, 

•And  breathes  contentment  round  the  humble  hearth ; 
While  savage  warriors,  soften’d  by  thy  breath, 

Unbind  the  captive  Plate  had  doom’d  to  death. 

Rev.  Walter  Jolion. 

Yes,  social  friend,  I love  thee  well, 

In  learned  doctors’  spite ; 

I’hy  clouds  all  other  clouds  dispel, 

And  lap  me  in  delight 


Charles  SpRACt  i;. 


CI.ERG  Y - CLOUDS  - STORM,  Alc. 


125 


I'arewell ! I’ve  yet  one  solace  left,  which  cheers  my  lonely 
hearth, 

And  in  that  thought  a thousand  hopes  are  springing  into 
birth : 

How  beautiful  the  vision  comes,  airiidst  life’s  gath’ring 
cares. 

In  shape  — a champaefne  bottle,  and  a box  of  fine  cigars  ! 

J.  C.  M’Ca.be. 


CLERGY. — (See  Church.) 


CLOUDS  — STORM  — WEATHER,  ccv.. 

The  clouds  consign  their  treasures  to  the  fields, 

And,  softly  shaking  on  the  dimpled  pool 
Prelusive  drops,  let  all  their  moisture  flow. 

In  large  effusion  o’er  the  freshen’d  world. 

Thomson’s  Seasons 

Oh  night, 

And  storm,  and  darkness  ! ye  are  wondrous  strong. 

Yet  lovely  in  your  strength,  as  is  the  light 
Of  a dark  eye  in  woman.  Far  along 

From  peak  to  peak,  the  rattling  crags  among. 

Leaps  the  live  thunder. 

• Byron’s  CJiilde  Harold 

How  the  giant  element, 

From  rock  to  rock,  leaps  with  delirious  bound  * 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
The  storm  howl’d  madly  o’er  the  sea. 

The  clouds  their  thunder  anthems  sang, 

And  billows,  rolling  fearfully, 

In  concert  with  the  whirlwind  rang. 

Rev.  J.  N.  Maffit. 


1 26  COMPANY  - COMPASSION  - CONCEALMENT.  <ko 


How  calm,  how  beautiful  comes  on 
The  stilly  hour,  when  storms  are  gone ; 

When  warring  winds  have  didd  away, 

And  clouds,  beneath  the  glancing  ray, 

Melt  ofT,  and  leave  the  land  and  sea 
Sleeping  in  bright  tranquillity  1 

Moore’s  Lalla  RookK 
In  pomp  transcendant,  rob’d  in  heav’nly  dyes. 

Arch’d  the  clear  rainbow  round  the  orient  skies. 

Dr.  Dwight 

Far  on  the  utmost  verge  of  that  huge  dome, 

Whicn  rears  its  ether  arch  above  the  world. 

T.  D.  English. 

The  sky  grew  darker.  Soon  came  booming  on 
The  deep-voic’d  thunder,  whilst  at  distance  roll’d 
The  wild  wdnds’  dirge-like,  and  yet  tempest  tone ; 

And  lightning’s  evanescent  sheets  of  gold 
Burst,  in  their  anger,  from  the  cloud’s  huge  fold. 

T.  D.  English 

The  wintry  blast. 

With  sound  terrific,  rushes  wildly  past. 


COMPANY.  — (See  Associates.) 


COMPASSION.  — (See  Forgiveness.) 


CONCEALM  ENT  — SECRESY. 

A murderous  guilt  shows  not  itself  more  soon 
I’han  love  that  would  seem  hid  : love’s  night  is  noon. 

SlIAKSPEARK 


CONCEALMENT  - SECRESY. 


127 


She  never  told  her  love ; 

But  let  concealment,  like  a worm  i’  th’  bud, 

Peed  on  her  damask  cheek.  She  pined  in  thought, 

And  sat,  like  Patience  on  a monument, 

Smiling  at  grief. 

Shakspearb. 

T will  believe 

Thou  wilt  not  utter  what  thou  dost  not  know ; 

And  so  far  will  I trust  thee. 

Shakspeare. 

A secret  in  his  mouth 
Is  like  a wild  bird  put  into  a cage, 

Whose  door  no  sooner  opens,  but ’t  is  out. 

Ben  Jonson. 

■ What  torment’s  equal  to  the  grief  of  mind. 

And  pining  anguish  hid  in  gentle  heart. 

That  inly  feeds  itself  with  thought  unkind. 

And  nourishes  its  own  consuming  smart  ? 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queen, 
Search  not  to  find  what  lies  too  deeply  hid  ; 

Nor  to  know  things  whose  knowledge  is  forbid. 

Denham. 

1 have  a silent  sorrow  here, 

A grief  I ’ll  ne’er  impart ; 

It  breathes  no  sigh,  it  sheds  no  tear. 

Yet  it  consumes  my  heart. 

Sheridan. 

And  if  she  met  him,  tho’  she  smil’d  no  more. 

She  look'd  a sadness  sweeter  than  her  smile. 

As  if  her  heart  had  deeper  thoughts  in  store. 

She  must  not  own,  but  cherish’d  more  the  while. 

Byron’s  Don  Juaiu 
In  that  corroding  secresy,  which  gnaws 
The  heart  to  show  the  effect,  but  not  the  <:ause. 

Byron’s  Lara 


CONFESSION. 


^ 128 


And  there  were  sighs,  the  deeper  for  suppression, 

And  stolen  glances,  sweeter  for  the  theft. 

And  burning  blushes,  tho’  for  no  transgression. 
Tremblings  when  met,  and  restlessness  when  left. 

Byron’s  Don  Jtian 

I think  that  all  the  world  are  grown  anonymous, 

Since  no  one  cares  to  tell  us  what  he’s  call’d. 

Byron’s  Herner 

In  many  ways  does  the  full  heart  reveal 
The  presence  of  the  love  it  would  conceal. 

CoLtMl/OE 


CONFESSION 
I know  not  why 

I love  this  youth ; and  I have  heard  you  say, 

Love’s  reason’s  without  reason. 

Shakspeare. 

I blush  to  think  what  I have  said — 

But  fate  has  wrested  the  confession  from  me; — 

Go  on.  and  prosper  in  the  paths  of  honour; 

Thy  virtue  will  excuse  my  passion  for  thee, 

And  make  the  gods  propitious  to  our  love. 

Addison’s  Cato, 

Well  did  I mark  \ae  new-born  passion  grow, 

Which  my  heart  beat  responsive  at  perceiving. 

A.  Sketon 

As  letters  some  hand  has  invisibly  trac’d. 

When  held  to  the  flame,  will  steal  out  to  the  sight; 

So.  many  a feeling  that  long  seem’d  eflac’d. 

The  warmth  of  a meeting  like  this  brings  to  light. 

Moore. 

A light  comes  o’er  me  from  those  looks  of  love, 

Like  the  first  (lawn  of  mercy  from  above. 

Moore. 


rONFIDENCE-CONSClEJNcr.-  iZ\) 

I admit  you  are  handsome, — but  still,  I should  guess. 

That  others  are  handsome  as  you  ; 

I ’ve  heard  you  call’d  charming, — but  you  must  confess 
That  all  things  we  hear  are  not  true : 

You  think  me  the  slave  of  your  charms ; — I allow 
I’hat  in  graces  but  few  are  above  you  ; 

Yet,  charming  and  fair  as  I see  you,  I vow 
That — I cannot  deny  it — I love  you  ! 

J.  T.  Watson. 


CONFIDENCE. 

Thy  words  convince  me  ; all  my  doubts  are  vanish’d. 

iEscHYLus’  Agamemnon* 
Be  thou  as  just  and  gracious  unto  me. 

As  I am  confident  and  kind  to  thee. 

Shakspeare. 

Let  mutual  joy  our  mutual  trust  combine, 

And  love,  and  love-born  confidence,  be  thine  ! 

Dryden 

Thou  know’st  how  fearless  is  my  trust  in  thee. 

Miss  L.  E.  Landon. 

Amidst  the  dull  cares  that  surround  us  in  life, — 

In  the  moments  of  bliss  that  illumine  our  way, — 

When  the  bosom  is  torn  with  contention  and  strife. 

Or  thrill’d  with  delight  at  the  scenes  we  survey, — 

Oh  1 blest  is  the  man,  who  can  freely  repose 
In  the  heart  of  a friend  all  his  joys  and  his  w^oes  ! 

J.  T.  Watson. 


CONSCIENCE  — DUTY. 

Whiles  trembling  horror  did  his  conscience  daunt. 
And  hellish  anguish  did  his  soul  assail. 


9 


Spense* 


130 


CONSCIENCE  - DUTY. 


A p(,‘ace  above  all  other  dignities 
A still  and  (juiet  conscience. 

SH/tKSiPEAK8 

Mj  conscience  hath  a thousand  several  tongues, 

And  every  tongue  brings  in  a several  tale, 

And  every  tale  condemns  me  for  a v.llain 

Shaksplakr 

Oh ! I have  past  a miserable  night  ! 

So  full  of  fearful  dreams,  of  ugly  sights, 

That  as  1 am  a Christian  faithful  man, 

I would  not  spend  another  such  a night, 

Though ’t  were  to  buy  a world  of  happy  days ! 

Shakspeare. 

Suspicion  always  haunts  the  guilty  mind ; 

The  thief  doth  fear  each  bush  an  officer. 

Shakspearf. 

Thrice  is  he  arm’d  that  hath  his  quarrel  just ; 

And  he  but  naked,  though  lock’d  up  in  steel. 

Whose  conscience  with  injustice  is  corrupted. 

Shakspeare. 

Leave  her  to  heaven, 

And  to  those  thorns  that  in  her  bosom  lodge, 

To  prick  and  sting  her. 

Shakspeare 

Now  conscience  v/akes  despair, 

That  slumber’d  ; wakes  the  bitter  memory 
Of  what  he  was,  what  is,  and  what  must  be 
Worse,  if  worse  deeds,  worse  sufferings  must  ensue. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost» 

He  that  has  light  within  his  own  clear  breast, 

May  sit  i’  the  centre,  and  enjoy  bright  day  ; 

But  he  that  hides  a dark  soul,  and  foul  thoughts, 

Benighted  walks  under  the  mid-day  sun  ; 
ffirnself  is  his  own  dungeon, 


Milton’s  Cornua 


CONSCIEMCE-  DUTY. 


131 


Why  should  not  conscience  have  vacation, 

As  well  a;s  other  courts  o’  the  nation  ? 

Have  equal  power  to  adjourn, 

Appoint  appearar.ee,  and  return  ? 

Butler’s  Hudibrat 

’Tis  ever  thus 

With  noble  minds ; if  chance  they  slide  to  folly, 

Remorse  stings  deeper,  and  relentless  conscience 
Pours  more  of  gall  into  the  bitter  cup 
Of  their  severe  repentance. 

Mason 

Here,  here  it  lies ; a lump  of  lead  by  day ; 

And  in  my  short,  distracted,  nightly  slumbers, 

The  hag  that  rides  my  dreams. 

Dryden. 

One  self-approving  hour  whole  years  outweighs 
Of  stupid  starers,  and  of  loud  huzzas. 

And  more  true  joy  Marcellus  exiled  feels. 

Than  Caesar  with  the  Senate  at  his  heels. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 

He ’s  arm’d  without,  that ’s  innocent  within. 

Pope 

Knowledge  or  wealth  to  few  are  given. 

But  mark  how  just  the  ways  of  heaven  : 

True  joy  to  all  is  free. 

Nor  wealth  nor  knowledge  grant  the  boon, 

*T  IS  thine,  O Conscience  ! thine  alone — 

It  all  belongs  to  thee. 

Mickle. 

Oh  conscience  ! conscience  ! man’s  most  faithful  friend. 
Him  canst  thou  comfort,  ease,  relieve,  defend ; 

But  if  he  will  thy  friendly  checks  forego. 

Thou  art,  Oh  woe  for  me  ! his  deadliest  foe ! 

Crabbk 


132 


CONSCIENCE  - DUTY. 


Ccnscience,  what  art  thou  ? thou  tremendous  power ! 

Who  dost  inhabit  us  without  our  leave, 

And  art  within  ourselves,  another  self, 

A master  self,  that  loves  to  domineer. 

And  treat  the  monarch  frankly  as  fhe  slave  ? 

Young’s  Brothern, 

Who  does  the  best  his  circumstance  allows. 

Does  well,  acts  nobly — angels  could  no  more. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts, 
The  sly  informer  minutes  ev’ry  fault. 

And  her  dread  diary  with  horror  fills. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 
There  is  no  future  pang, 

Can  deal  that  justice  on  the  self-condemn’d. 

He  deals  on  his  own  soul. 

Byron’s  Manfred. 

Though  thy  slumbers  may  be  deep, 

Yet  thy  spirit  shall  not  sleep ; 

There  are  shades  that  will  not  vanish, 

There  are  thoughts  thou  cs^nst  not  banish. 

Byron’s  Manfred. 

My  solitude  is  solitude  no  more, 

But  peopled  with  the  furies. 

Byron’s  Manfred. 

A quiet  conscience  makes  one  so  serene  ! 

Christians  have  burnt  each  other,  quite  persuaded 
That  all  the  apostles  would  have  done  as  they  did. 

Byron’s  Dor,  Juan 

But.,  at  sixteen,  the  conscience  rarely  gnaws 
So  much,  as  when  we  call  our  old  debts  in 
At  sixty  years  and  draw  the  account  of  evil. 

And  find  a deuced  balance  with  the  devil. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 
So  much  the  better  : — I may  stand  alone, 

T^ut  would  not  change  my  free-will  for  a throne. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 


CONSCIENr'E  - DUT\ . 


133 


No  ear  can  hear,  no  ton^^^ue  can  tell 
The  tortures  of  that  inward  hell  ! 

Byron’?  Giaour. 

The  conscience  fierce, 

Awak’ning  without  wounding  the  touch’d  heart. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
Yet  still  there  whispers  the  small  voice  within, 

Heard  thro’  gain’s  silence,  and  o’er  glory’s  din; 

Whatever  creed  be  taught,  or  land  be  trod, 

Man’s  conscience  is  the  oracle  of  God. 

Byron’s  Island. 

That  savage  spirit,  which  would  lull  by  WTath 
Its  desperate  escape  from  duty’s  path; 

For  ne’er  can  man  his  conscience  all  assuage, 

Unless  he  drain  the  wine  of  passion — rage. 

Byron’s  island. 

Not  all  the  glory,  all  the  praise. 

That  decks  the  prosperous  hero’s  days, 

The  shout  of  men,  the  laurel  crown, 

The  pealing  echoes  of  renc  \vn, 

May  conscience’s  dreadful  sentence  drown. 

Mrs.  Holford. 

Possessions  vanish,  and  opinions  change, 

And  passion  holds  a fluctuating  seat, 

But,  subject  neither  to  eclipse  nor  wane, 

Duty  remains. 

Wordsworth. 

Trust  me,  no  tortures  which  the  poets  feign 
Can  ma^ch  the  fierce,  the  unutterable  pain 
He  feel&  who,  night  and  day  devoid  of  rest, 

Carries  nis  own  accuser  in  his  breast. 

Gifford’s  Juveval. 

How  awful  is  that  hour  when  conscience  stings 
The  hoary  wretch,  who  on  his  death-bed  hears, 

Deep  in  his  soul,  the  thundering  voice  that  wrings, 

In  one  dark,  damning  moment,  crimes  of  years ! 

J G.  Percivaj- 


134 


OJNSENT  - REFUSAL. 


This  kills  his  pleasure  all  the  day, 

This  thought  destroys  his  nightly  rest ; 

Go  where  he  will,  ’t  is  in  his  way. 

To  him  a loathsome,  hated  pest. 

J.  T.  Wap^opi 


CONSENT  — REFUSAL 


I cannot  love  him : 

Yet  1 suppose  him  virtuous,  know  him  noble, 

Of  great  estate,  of  fresh  and  stainless  youth. 

In  voices  well  divulg’d,  learned,  and  valiant. 

And,  in  dimensions  and  the  shape  of  nature, 

A gracious  person : but  yet  I cannot  love  him. 

Shakspearb. 


Do  I not  in  plainest  truth 
Tell  you — I do  not,  nor  I cannot  love  you  ? 

He  might  have  took  his  answer  long  ago. 


Shakspearb, 

Shakspeare. 


Repulse  upon  repulse  met  ever — 

Yet  gives  not  o’er,  tho’  desperate  of  success. 

Milton. 

If  you  oblige  me  suddenly  to  choose, 

My  choice  is  made — and  I must  you  refuse. 

Dryden. 


Take  my  esteem^  if  you  on  that  can  live  ; 

But,  frankly,  sir,  ’t  is  all  T have  to  give 

I DkYDEN. 

Love  is  not  in  our  powder, 

Nay,  what  seems  stranger,  is  not  in  our  choice  ; 

We  only  love  where  fate  ordains  we  should. 

And,  blindly  fond,  oft  slight  superior  merit. 

Frowdk. 

T was  whisper’d  balm — ’t  was  sunshine  spoken  ! 


Moore 


CONSTANCY  - INCONSTANCY 


135 


I strove  not  to  resist  so  sweet  a flame, 

But  gloried  in  a happy  captive’s  name ; 

Nor  would  I now,  would  love  permit,  be  free ! 

Lord  Lyttleton 

My  heart  with  lo’^e  is  heating, 

Transported  by  your  eyes; 

Alas  ! there ’s  no  retreating. 

In  vain  a captive  flies. 

I ’ve  rich  ones  rejected,  and  fond  ones  denied, 

But,  take  me,  fond  shepherd, — I ’m  thine. 

McNeil. 

Oh,  do  not  talk  to  me  of  love, 

’Tis  deepest  cruelty  to  me — 

Why  throw  a net  around  the  bird 
That  might  be  happy,  light  and  free  ? 

Westmacott 

Now  what  could  artless  Jennie  do  ? 

She  had  na’  will  to  say  him  na’ ; 

At  length  she  blush’d  a sweet  consent. 

And  love  was  ay  between  them  twa. 

Burns 

She  half  consents,  who  silently  denies. 

Ovid 


CONSTANCY  — INCONSTANCY. 

O heaven ! were  man 
But  constant  he  were  perfect ; that  one  error 
Fills  him  with  faults;  makes  him  run  through  all  sins. 

Shakspeare. 

i am  constant  as  the  northern  star, 

Of  whose  true,  fix’d,  and  resting  quality 
There  is  no  fellow  in  the  firmament. 


SllAKSPEARF. 


CONSTANCY  - INCONSTANCY. 


bid  the  needle  its  dear  North  forsake, 

To  which  with  irernbling  reverence  it  doth  bend  ; 

Go,  bid  the  stones  a journey  upwards  make  ; 

Go,  bid  th’  ambitious  flames  no  more  ascend ; 

And  when  these  false  to  their  old  motions  prove, 

Then  will  1 cease  thee,  thee  alone  to  love. 

Cowls'! 

Perhaps  this  cruel  nymph  well  knows  to  feign 
Forbidding  speech,  coy  looks,  and  cold  disdain. 

To  raise  his  passion : Such  are  female  arts. 

To  hold  in  safer  snares  inconstant  hearts. 

Gay’s  Diont, 

True  constancy  no  time,  no  power  can  move, 

He  that  hath  known  to  change,  ne’er  knew  to  love. 

Gay^s  Dione, 

Yes,  let  the  eagle  change  his  plume, 

The  leaf  its  hue,  the  flower  its  blooni. 

But  ties  around  that  heart  were  spun. 

Which  would  not,  could  not  be  undone. 

Campbell 

Sooner  shall  the  blue  ocean  melt  to  air, 

Sooner  shall  earth  resolve  itself  to  sea, 

Than  I resign  thine  image.  Oh  my  fair  I 
Or  think  of  any  thing,  excepting  thee. 

Byron’s  Don  Jami^ 

Love  bears  within  itself  the  very  germ 

Of  change  ; and  how  should  this  be  otherwise  ? 

That  violent  things  more  quickly  find  a term 
Is  shown  through  nature’s  whole  analogies. 

Byron’s  Don 

Then  fare  thee  w’ell — 1 ’d  rather  make 
My  bower  upon  some  icy  lake. 

When  thawing  suns  begin  to  shine, 

I'lian  trust  to  love  so  falsf  as  thine  ^ 


MoiVRS 


CONSTANCY  - INCONSTAxNCY. 


137 


Oh,  the  heart,  that  has  truly  lov’d,  never  forgtts, 

But  as  truly  loves  on  to  the  close. 

As  the  sun-flower  turns  on  her  god,  when  he  sets. 

The  same  look  which  she  turn’d  when  he  rose. 

Moore. 

Sweetest  love ! I ’ll  not  forget  thee  * 

Time  shall  only  teach  my  heart 
Fonder,  warmer  to  regret  thee, 

Lovely,  gentle  as  thou  art ! 

Moore. 

There  are  three  things  a wise  man  wdll  not  trust : 

The  wind,  the  sunshine  of  an  April  day. 

And  woman’s  plighted  faith. 

Southey, 

Tell  her  I ’ll  love  her  while  the  clouds  drop  rain, 

Or  while  there ’s  water  in  the  pathless  main. 

Think  not,  beloved,  time  can  break 
The  spell  around  us  cast, 

Or  absence  from  my  bosom  take 
The  memory  of  the  past. 

The  love  that  is  kept  in  the  beauty  of  trust, 

Cannot  pass  like  the  foam  from  the  seas. 

Or  a mark  that  the  finger  hath  trac’d  in  the  dust, 

Where ’t  is  swept  by  the  breath  of  the  breeze. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Welby. 

The  mountain  rill 

Seeks,  with  no  surer  flow,  the  far,  bright  sea. 

Than  my  unchang’d  affection  flows  to  thee. 

Park  BenjamiN. 

Love,  constant  love  ! 

Age  cannot  quench  it — like  the  primal  ray 
From  the  vast  fountain  that  supplies  the  day. 

Fir,  far  above 

Our  cloud-encircled  region,  it  will  flow 
As  pure  and  as  eternal  in  its  glow. 


Park  Benjamin, 


138 


OJNSTANCY-  INCONSTANCY. 


1 lov’d  thee  iu  thy  spring-time’s  blushing  hour, — 

I lov’d  thee  in  thy  summer’s  ripen’d  noon — 

[ lov’d  thee  in  the  blossom,  bud,  and  flower — 

The  tear  of  April,  and  the  smile  of  June 
Fear  not,  then,  fear  not  any  hour  will  see 
The  heart  grow  cold  that  ever  beats  for  thee ! 

With  a kiss  my  vow  was  greeted 
As  I knelt  before  thy  shrine; 

But  I saw  that  kiss  repeated 
On  another  lip  than  mine : 

And  a solemn  vow  was  spoken 

That  thy  heart  should  not  be  chang  d ; 

But  that  binding  vow  was  broken, 

And  thy  spirit  was  estrang’d. 

J.  O.  Rockwkijl 

Though  youth  be  past,  and  beauty  fled. 

The  constant  heart  its  pledge  redeems. 

Like  box  that  guards  the  flowerless  bed. 

And  brighter  from  the  contrast  seems. 

Mrs.  S.  J.  Hale. 

Thou  art  fickle  as  the  sea. 

Thou  art  wandering  as  the  wind. 

And  the  restless,  ever-mounting  flames 
Are  nc)t  more  hard  to  bind. 

W.  C.  Bryant 

Inconstant ! are  the  waters  so 

That  fall  in  showers  on  hill  and  plain. 

Then,  tired  of  what  they  find  below. 

Ride  on  the  sunbeams  back  again  ? 


There  is  nothing  but  death 
Our  affection  can  sever. 

And  till  life’s  latest  breath 
Love  shall  bind  us  for  ever. 


J.  G.  Fercivai, 


CONTEMPLATION  - REFLECTION. 


139 


Where’er  thou  journeyest,  or  vvhate’er  thy  care, 

My  heart  shall  fallow,  and  my  spirit  share. 

Mrs.  L.  H.  Sigourney 
The  finger  of  love,  on  my  innerrnott  heart. 

Wrote  thy  name,  O adored  ! when  my  feelings  were  young 
And  the  record  shall  ’bide  till  my  soul  shall  depart. 

And  the  darkness  of  death  o’er  my  being  be  flung. 

W.  H.  Burleigh. 


CONTEMPLATION  — REFLECTION. 

Thus  ev’ry  object  of  creation 
Can  furnish  hints  for  contemplation. 

And,  from  the  most  minute  and  mean, 

A virtuous  mind  can  morals  glean. 

Gay’s  Fables, 

’T  is  greatly  wise  to  talk  with  our  past  hours, 

And  ask  them  what  report  they’ve  borne  to  heaven. 

And  how  they  might  have  borne  more  welcome  news. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 
A soul  without  reflection,  like  a pile 
Withouv  inhabitant,  to  ruin  runs. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts, 
Thanks  to  the  human  heart,  by  which  we  live. 

Thanks  to  its  tenderness,  its  joys  and  fears, 

To  me  the  meanest  flower  that  blows  can  give 
Thoughts,  that  do  often  lie  too  deep  for  tears. 

Wordsworth 

Mount  on  Contemplation’s  wings. 

And  mark  the  causes  and  the  ends  of  things ; 

Learn  what  we  are,  and  for  what  purpose  born, 

What  station  here ’t  is  given  us  to  adorn  ; 

How  best  to  blend  security  with  ease, 

And  win  our  way  thro’  life’s  tempestuous  seas. 

Gifpord’s  Fersesu, 


140 


CONTEMPT -SCORN. 


It  is  fine 

To  stand  upon  some  lofty  mountain  thought, 

And  feel  the  spirit  stretch  into  a view. 

* Bailey’s  Festui, 

Within  the  deep, 

Still  chambers  of  the  heart,  a spectre  dim. 

Whose  tones  are  like  the  wizard  voice  of  Time, 

Heard  from  the  tombs  of  ages,  points  its  cold 
And  solemn  finger  to  the  beautiful 
And  holy  visions  that  have  past  away. 

And  left  no  shadow  of  their  loveliness 
On  the  dead  waste  of  life. 

George  D.  Prentice. 


CONTEMPT  — SCORN. 


Disdain  and  scorn  ride  sparkling  in  her  eyes. 

Shakspeare. 


Infamous  wretch  ! 

So  much  below  ni)^  scorn,  I dare  not  kill  thee  ! 

Dryden. 


He  hears 

On  all  sides,  from  innumerable  tongues, 

A dismal,  universal  hiss,  the  sound 
Of  public  scorn. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost 


Derision  shall  strike  thee  forlorn, 

A mock’ry  that  never  shall  die ; 

The  curses  of  hate,  and  the  hisses  of  scorn, 

Shall  burthen  the  winds  of  the  sky ; 

And,  proud  o’er  thy  ruin,  for  ever  be  hurl’d, 

T’he  laughter  of  triumph,  the  ’eers  of  the  world. 

Byron 

Thou  may’st  from  law,  but  not  from  scorn  escape ; 

The  pointed  finger,  cold,  averted  eye. 

Insulted  virtue’s  hiss — thou  canst  not  fly. 

Charles  Sprague 


CONTENTMENT  - DISCONTENT. 


141 


Pardon  is  for  men, 

And  not  for  reptiles — we  have  none  for  Steno, 

And  no  resentment ; things  like  him  must  sling, 

And  higher  beings  suffer ; ’t  is  the  charter 
Of  Lfe.  4 he  man,  who  dies  by  the  adder’s  pang. 

May  have  .he  crawler  crush’d,  but  feels  no  anger : 

’T  was  the  worm’s  nature  ; and  some  men  are  w’^orms 
In  soul,  more  than  the  living  thin^rs  of  tomhs 

Byron' s Marino  Falura 
And  would’st  thou  turn, 
liike  one  contemn’d,  to  seek  for  more  contempt! 

Rufus  Dawes 


CONTENTMENT  — DISCONTENT. 

O 1 who  can  lead,  then,  a more  happy  life. 

Than  he,  that,  with  clean  mind  and  heart  sincere, 

No  greedy  riches  knows,  nor  bloody  strife  ? 

SPENSEK 

The  remnant  of  his  days  he  safely  past, 

Nor  found  they  lagg’d  too  slow,  nor  flew  too  fast; 

He  made  his  wish  with  his  estate  comply, 

Joyful  to  live,  yet  not  afraid  to  die. 

Pkiofl 

Still  falling  out  with  this  and  this. 

And  finding  something  still  amiss; 

More  peevish,  cross,  and  splenetic 
Thar  dog  distract  or  monkey  tick. 

Butler’s  Hmltbras. 

Peace  brother,  be  not  over-exquisite 
To  cast  the  fashion  of  uncertain  evils  ; 

For,  grant  they  be  so,  while  they  rest  unknown, 

What  need  a man  forestall  his  date  of  grief. 

And  run  to  meet  what  he  would  most  avoid  ? 

Milton’s  Comm, 


142 


(CONTENTMENT  - DISCONTENT. 


For  who  did  ever  yet,  by  honour,  wealth. 

Or  pleasure  of  the  sense,  Contentment  find  ? 

Who  ever  ceas’d  to  wish,  when  he  had  health. 

Or,  having  Wisdom,  was  not  vex’d  in  mind  ? 

Davies’  Immortality  oj  iKt  SoiJ, 
The  lion  crav’d  the  fox’s  art; 

The  fox  the  lion’s  force  and  !ieart ; 

The  cock  implor’d  the  pigeon’s  flight. 

Whose  wings  were  rapid,  strong,  and  light : 

The  pigeon  strength  of  wing  despis’d. 

And  the  cock’s  matchless  valour  priz’d. 

The  fishes  wish’d  to  graze  the  plain  ; 

The  beasts  to  skim  beneath  the  main. 

Thus,  envious  of  another’s  state. 

Each  blam’d  the  partial  hand  of  fate. 

Gay’s  Fabhi 

Sour  discontent,  that  quarrels  with  our  fate. 

May  give  fresh  smart,  but  not  the  old  abate  ,* 

The  uneasy  passion’s  disingenuous  wit. 

The  ill  reveals,  but  hides  the  benefit. 

Sir  R.  Blackmore. 

He,  fairly  looking  into  life’s  account. 

Saw  frowms  and  favours  were  of  like  amount ; 

And  viewing  all — his  perils,  prospects,  purse — 

He  said,  “ Content — ’tis  well  it  is  no  worse.” 

Crabbe. 

With  careless  eyes  he  views  the  proud. 

In  splendid  robes  profusely  drest. 

Nor  heeds  the  dull,  censorious  crowd. 

By  fortune’s  fickle  goddess  blest. 

Gentleman^s  Magazine 
What  tho’  on  hamely  fare  we  dine, 

W ear  hodden  gray,  and  a’  that? 

Gie  fools  their  silk,  and  knaves  their  wine, 

A man ’s  a man  for  a’  that. 


CONVERSATION -LOQUACITY,  &c. 


143 


And  passing  rich,  with  forty  pounds  a year. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  ViUasre, 
A country -lad  is  my  degree. 

And  few  there  are  that  ken  me,  O ; 

But  what  care  I how  few  they  be  ? 

I’m  welcome  to  my  Nannie,  O. 

Burn&. 


We  heeded  not  the  cold  blast,  nor  the  winter’s  icy  air. 

For  we  found  our  climate  in  the  heart,  and  it  was  summer 
there. 

• J.  R Drakil 

The  feeling  of  sadness  and  longing. 

That  is  not  akin  to  pain. 

And  resembles  sorrow  only. 

As  the  mist  resembles  rain. 

H.  W.  Longfellow. 

0 ! dear  is  my  cottage,  unclouded  by  sorrow. 

And  sweet  is  the  bower  my  Erne  line  wove ; 

Ah  ! nought  from  the  gay  or  the  wealthy  I ’d  borrow. 
While  blest  with  the  smile  of  contentment  and  love. 

S.  Richards 

’Tis  said  that  frail,  inconstant  man. 

Is  ne’er  content  with  what  he  is: 

Each  thinks  he  can  in  others  scan 
A happiness  more  pure  than  his. 

J.  T.  Watson 


CONVERSATION  — LOQUACITY,  &c. 


What  cracker  is  this  same,  that  deafs  our  ears 
With  this  abundance  of  superfluous  breath  ? 

Shakspeark> 


O,  he ’s  as  tedious 
Asa  tir’d  horse,  a railing  wife  ; 

Worse  than  a smoky  chimney. 

Shakspea  aE. 


144 


CONVERSATION  - LOQUACri'Y, 


Since  brevity ’s  the  soul  of  wit, 

And  tediousness  the  limbs  and  outward  flourishes — 

1 will  be  brief. 

SiIAKSI'KaKK. 


A llourisn  trumpets  ! — strike  alarums — drums  ! 

Let  not  the  heavens  hear  these  tell-tale  women 
Rail 

SHAKSPt  ARE. 


Few  words  shall  fit  the  trespass  best, 

When  no  excuse  can  give  the  fault  amending. 

Shakspeare, 

Their  copious  stories,  oftentimes  begun. 

End  without  audience  and  are  never  done. 

Shakspeare. 

As ’t  is  a greater  mystery,  in  the  art 
Of  painting,  to  foreshorten  any  part. 

Than  draw  it  out,  so ’t  is,  in  books,  the  chief 
Of  all  perfections  to  be  plain  and  brief. 

Butler. 

For  brevity  is  very  good. 

When  we  are,  or  are  not,  understood. 

Butler’s  Hudibiaa. 

But  still  his  tongue  ran  on,  the  less 
Of  weight  it  had,  with  greater  ease ; 

And,  with  its  everlasting  clack,  . 

Set  all  men’s  ears  upon  the  rack. 

Butler’s  Hik libras 

I never,  with  important  air. 

In  conversation  overbear; 

My  tongue  within  my  lips  I rein, 

For  who  talks  much  must  talk  in  vain. 

Gay’s  Fables, 

But  fools,  to  talking  ever  prone, 

Are  sure  to  make  their  follies  known. 

Gay's  Fables 


CONVERSATION -LOQUACITY,  Alc. 


145 

lii  arguing-,  too,  the  parson  own’d  his  skill, 

For,  even  iho’  vanquish’d,  he  could  argue  still. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted 

With  words  of  learned  length,  and  thund’ring  sound. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  Vilhiut 

Too  deep  for  his  hearers,  still  went  on  refining, 

And  thought  of  convincing,  while  they  thought  of  dinsni; 

Goldsmith’s  Retaliation, 

The  bookful  blockhead,  ignorantly  read. 

With  loads  of  learned  lumber  in  his  head, 

With  his  own  tongue  still  edifies  his  ears. 

And  always  list’ning  to  himself  appears. 

I^’OPF 

Be  silent  always,  when  you  doubt  your  sense. 

And  speak,  tho’  sure,  with  seeming  diffidence. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism 

A dearth  of  words  a woman  need  not  fear ; 

But ’t  is  a task  indeed  to  learn — to  hear. 

In  that  the  skill  of  conversation  lies ; 

That  shows  or  makes  you  both  polite  and  wise. 

Young 

Talking,  she  knew  not  why,  and  car’d  not  what. 

Byron's  Beppo» 

If,  in  talking  from  morning  till  night, 

A sign  of  our  wisdom  there  be, 

I’hc  swallows  are  wiser  by  right, 

For  they  prattle  much  faster  than 

Moore’s  Nicostratm. 

And  there ’s  one  rare,  strange  virtue  in  their  speeches. 

The  secret  of  their  mastery — they  are  short. 

f Iai  cecb 


10 


COQUETTF 


COQUETTE. 

The  vain  coquette  each  suit  disdains, 

And  glories  in  her  lovers’  pains  ; 

With  age  she  fades- — each  lover  flies, 

Contemn’d,  forlorn,  she  pines  and  dies. 

Gay’s  Fohltt 

Who  hath  not  heard  coquettes  complain 
Of  days,  months,  years,  inis-spent  in  vain  ? 

For  time  misus’d  they  pine  and  waste. 

And  love’s  sweet  pleasures  never  taste. 

Gay’s  Fablra. 

Nymph  of  the  mincing  mouth,  and  languid  eye, 

And  lisping  tongue  so  soft,  and  head  awry. 

And  fiuti’ring  heart,  of  leaves  of  aspen  made. 

Dr.  Wolcot’s  Peter  Pindar, 
Such  is  your  old  coquette,  who  can’t  say  “ No,” 

And  won’t  say  “ Yes and  keeps  you  on  and  offing 
On  a lee  shore,  till  it  begins  to  b^ow  ; 

Then  sees  your  heart  wreck’d  with  an  inward  scoffing: 
T’his  works  a world  of  sentimental  woe. 

And  sends  new  Werters  yearly  to  their  coffin. 

Byron’s  Don  Jiiau. 

Would  you  teach  her  to  love? 

For  a time  seem  to  rove  ; 

At  first  she  may  frown  in  a pet ; 

But  leave  her  awhile,  = 

She  shortly  will  smile. 

And  then  you  may  win  your  coquette. 

Byron, 

Can  T again  that  look  recall, 

I’hat  once  could  make  me  die  for  thee  ? — 

No,  no!  — the  eye  that  burns  on  all. 

Shall  never  more  be  priz’d  by  me! 


Moorb. 


COUNTRY  - PATRIOTISM. 


1 


Stil!  panting  o’er  a crowd  to  reign, 

More  joy  it  gives  to  woman’s  breast. 

To  make  ten  frio^id  coxcombs  vain, 

Than  one  true,  manly  lover  blest, 

Mo>‘rk 

Bright  as  the  sun  her  eyes  the  gazers  strike, 

And,  like  the  sun,  they  shine  on  all  alike. 

Po  E 

There’s  danger  in  the  dazzling  eye. 

That  WOOS  thee  with  its  witching  smile ; 

Another,  when  thou  art  not  by. 

Those  beaming  lool^s  would  fain  beguile. 

Mrs.  Osgood 

But  why,  O,  why  on  all  thus  squander 
The  treasures  out  alone  can  prize  ? 

Why  let  the  looks  at  random  wander. 

Which  beam  from  those  deluding  eyes  ? 

C.  F. 


COUNTRY  — PATRIOTISM. 

A great  man  struggling  in  the  storms  of  fate. 

And  greatly  falling  with  a falling  state. 

Pops 

But  where  to  find  the  happiest  spot  below, 

Who  can  direct,  when  all  pretend  to  know  ? 

The  shuddering  tenant  of  the  Frigid  Zone 
Proudly  proclaims  that  happiest  spot  his  own ; 

The  naked  negro,  panting  on  the  line. 

Boasts  of  his  golden  sands  and  palmy  wine  ; — 

Such  is  the  patriot’s  boast  where’er  we  roam. 

His  first,  best  country  ever  is  his  own. 

Goldsmith’s  Trnielhr, 
Whither  where  equinoctial  fervours  glow. 

Dr  winter  wraps  the  polar  hud  in  snow. 

Goldsmith’s  Travtlhr. 


148 


COUNTRY  - PATRKrriSM. 


Gay  sprightly  land  of  mirth  an  i social  joy  ! 

Goldsmith’s  7'raveUer, 
The  wandering  mariner,  whose  eye  explores 
The  wealthiest  isles,  the  most  enchanting  shores, 

Views  not  a realm  so  beautiful  and  fair. 

Nor  breathes  the  fragrance  of  a purer  air ; 

In  every  clime  the  magnet  of  his  soul, 

Touch’d  by  remembrance,  trembles  to  that  pole. 

J.  Montoomerv 

Then  said  the  mother  to  her  son, 

And  pointed  to  his  shield  ; — 

“ Come  with  it,  w^hen  the  battle ’s  done, 

Or  on  it,  from  the  held.” 

R.  Montgomery. 

Breathes  there  a man  with  soul  so  dead. 

Who  never  to  himself  hath  said — 

This  is  my  own — my  native  land  ! 

Scott’s  Last  Minstrel, 

Wert  thou  all  that  I wish  thee,  great,  glorious  and  free, 
First  flower  of  the  earth,  and  hrst  gem  of  the  sea, 

1 might  hail  thee  with  prouder,  with  happier  brow. 

But  oh ! could  I love  thee  more  deeply  than  now  ? 

Moore. 

Carolina,  Carolina!  Heaven’s  blessings  attend  her! 

While  we  live  we  will  cherish,  and  love,  and  defend  her. 
I’ho’  the  scorner  may  sneer  at,  and  witlings  defame  her. 
Our  hearts  swell  with  gladness  whenever  we  name  her  ’ 

Judge  Gaston, 

Let  Spain  boast  the  treasures  that  grow  in  her  mines ; 

Let  Gair.a  rejoice  in  her  olives  and  vines; 

In  bright  sparkling  jewels  let  India  prevail. 

With  her  odours  Arabia  perfume  every  gale  : — 

*T  is  Columbia  alone  that  can  boast  of  the  soil 
Where  the  ^lir  fruits  of  virtue  and  liberty  smile. 


COUNTRY  - PATRIOTISM. 


149 


Our  bo&oms  with  rapture  beat  high  at  thy  name, 

Thy  health  is  our  transport — our  triumph  thy  fame  ; 

Like  our  sires,  with  our  swords  we  ’M  support  thy  renown ; 
What  they  bought  with  their  blood  we  ’ll  defend  with  our  own 


On,  on  to  the  just  and  glorious  strife. 

With  your  swords  your  freedom  shielding; 
Nay,  resign,  if  it  must  be  so,  even  life, 

But  die  at  least,  unyielding  ! 


Sweet  clime  of  my  kindred,  blest  land  of  my  birth ! 
The  fairest,  the  dearest,  the  brightest  on  earth ! 
Where’er  I may  roam — howe’er  blest  I may  be, 
My  spirit  instinctively  turns  unto  thee  ! 


Oh  heaven  ! he  cried,  my  bleeding  country  save  ! 

Is  there  no  arm  on  high  to  shield  the  brave  ? 

Yet,  though  destruction  sweep  those  lovely  plains. 

Rise,  fellow-men  ! our  country  yet  remains  ! 

By  that  dread  name,  we  wave  the  sword  on  high. 

And  swear  with  her  to  live — with  her  to  die  ! 

Campbell’s  Pleasures  of  Hope 

Hope  for  a season  bade  the  world  farewell. 

And  freedom  shriek’d,  as  Kosciusko  fell ! 

Campbell’s  Pleasures  of  Hope, 
I'hey  never  fail  who  die 
In  a great  cause : the  block  may  soak  their  gore, 

Their  heads  may  sodden  in  the  sun  ; their  limbs 
Be  strung  to  city  gates  or  castle  walls ; — 

But  still  their  spirit  walks  abroad.  Though  years 
Elapse,  and  others  share  as  dark  a doom. 

They  but  augment  the  deep  and  sv/eeping  thoughts 
Which  overspread  all  others,  and  conduct 
I’he  wmrld  at  last  to  freedom. 


Bykon’s  JMarino  Falura 


150 


COUNTRY  - PATRIOTISM. 


Snatch  from  the  ashes  of  your  sires 
The  embers  of  their  former  fires, 

And  he,  who  in  the  strife  expires. 

Will  add  to  theirs  a name  of  fear. 

That  tyranny  will  quake  to  hear  ! 

Byron’s  Giaour 

The  Niobe  of  Nations  ! there  she  stands. 

Childless  and  crown  less  in  her  voiceless  woe  ; 

An  empty  urn  within  her  wither’d  hands. 

Whose  holy  dust  was  scatter’d  long  ago. 

Byron’s  Childt  Harold 
— While  the  tree 

Of  freedom’s  wither’d  trunk  puts  forth  a leaf. 

Even  for  thy  tomb  a garland  let  it  be. 

Byron’s  Childt  Harold. 
Yes,  honour  decks  the  turf  that  wraps  their  clay. 

Byron’s  Childt  Harold 
Who,  all  unbrib’d,  on  freedom’s  ramparts  stand. 

Faithful  and  true,  bright  wardens  of  the  land. 

Charles  Sprague 

England ! with  all  thy  faults,  I love  thee  still. 

COWPER. 

When  a patriot  falls,  must  he  fall  in  the  battle. 

Where  the  cannon’s  loud  roar  is  his  only  death-rattle  ? 
There ’s  a warfare  where  none  but  the  morally  brave 
Stand  nobly  and  firmly,  their  country  to  save. 

’T  is  the  war  of  opinion.,  where  few  can  be  found. 

On  the  mountain  of  principle,  guarding  the  ground. 

With  vigilant  eyes  ever  watching  the  foes 

Who  are  prowling  around  them,  and  aiming  their  blows, 

Mrs.  Dana 

And  they  who  for  their  country  die, 

Shall  fill  an  honour’d  grave ; 

For  glory  lights  the  soldier’s  tomb. 

And  beauty  weeps  che  brave. 


J.  R.  Drake. 


COUNTRl  -COURAGE -COURTIER 


15] 


They  love  their  land  because  it  is  their  own, 

And  scorn  to  give  aught  other  reason  why ; 

Would  shake,  hands  with  a king  upon  his  throne. 

And  think  it  kindness  to  his  Majesty. 

Firz-GREEN  Hallece 
Stride — till  the  last  arm’d  foe  expires  ; 

Strike  for  your  altars  and  your  fires; 

Strike  for  the  green  graves  of  your  sires, 

God,  and  your  native  land  ! 

Fitz-green  Hallecr 

Yes,  it  ^5  dear — fair  Southern  clime 
Of  genial  suns  ana  hearts  sincere ; 

And  we  will  cherish  it  till  Time 
Shall  end,  at  last,  our  life’s  career, 

J T.  W ATSON 


COUNTRY  LIFE.  — (See  Rural  Scenes.) 


COURAGE.  — (See  Bravery.) 


COURTIER  — PARASITE. 

Full  little  knowest  thou,  that  hast  not  tried. 

What  hell  it  is  in  suing  long  to  bide  ; 

To  lose  good  days,  that  might  be  better  spent, 

To  waste  long  nights  in  pensive  discontent ; 

To  speed  to-day,  to  be  put  back  to-morrow ; 

To  feed  on  hope,  to  pine  with  fear  and  sorrow ; — 

To  fawn,  to  crouch,  to  wait,  to  ride,  to  run. 

To  spend,  to  give,  to  want,  to  be  undone  ; — 

Unhappy  wight,  born  to  disastrous  end, 

That  doth  his  life  in  so  long  tendance  spend. 

Spenser’s  Mother  HubbarJ^s  Talt 


152 


COUfm^Ii  - FaRaKITE, 


These  can  lie, 

Flatter,  and  swear,  deprave,  inform. 

Smile  and  betray  ; make  gnilty  men  ; then  beg 
The  forh.'it  lives,  to  get  the  livings;  cut 
Men’s  throats  with  whisperings  ; sell  to  gaping  suitors 
The  empty  smoke  that  flies  about  a jralace. 

Ben  JoNSiL^ 

I have  been  told,  virtue  in  courtiers’  hearts 
Suffers  an  ostracism,  and  departs. 

Dr  IX/nnk, 

True  courtiers  should  be  modest,  and  not  nice ; 

Bold,  but  not  impudent ; pleasure  love,  not  vLe. 

Chapman 

Poor  wretches,  that  depend 
X)n  greatness’  favour,  dream  as  I have  done : 

Wake  and  find  nothing 

Shakspeare. 

The  caterpillars  of  the  commonwealth, 

Whom  I have  soon  to  weed  and  pluck  away. 

Shakspeare 

I hardly  yet  have  learn’d 
T’  insinuate,  flatter,  bow,  and  bend  the  knee. 

Shakspeare 

Those,  that  go  up  hill,  use  to  bow 
Their  bodies  forward,  and  stoop  low, 

To  poise  themselves ; and  sometimes  creep 
When  th’  way  is  difficult  and  steep : 

So  those  at  court,  that  do  address 
By  low,  ignoble  offices. 

Can  stoop  at  any  thing  that ’s  base. 

To  wriggle  into  trust  and  grace. 

Are  like  to  rise  to  greatness  sooner 
Than  those  that  go  by  worth  and  honour. 

Butler:’s  Hudtbrm 

See  how  he  sets  his  countenance  for  deceit, 

And  promises  a lie  before  he  speaks. 


Dry  DEN 


COURTSHIP. 


153 


’T  is  the  curse  of  kings, 

To  be  surrounded  by  a venal  herd 
Of  flatterers,  that  soothe  his  darling  vices, 

And  rob  their  master  of  his  subjects’  love. 

Brook’s  Earl  oj  IVarviik. 
Curse  on  the  coward  or  perfidious  tongue 
That  dares  not,  even  to  kings,  avow  the  truth. 

Thomson. 

To  shake  with  laughter,  ere  the  jest  they  hear. 

To  pour,  at  will,  the  counterfeited  tear; 

And,  as  their  patron  hints  the  cold  or  heat, 

To  shake  in  dog-days,  in  December  sweat. 

Dr.  Johnson 

A lazy,  proud,  unprofitable  crew. 

The  vermin  gender’d  from  the  rank  corruption 
Of  a luxurious  state. 

Cumberland 

A mere  court  butterfly. 

That  flutters  in  the  pageant  of  a monarch. 

Byron’s  Sardanapalus 

And  none  did  love  him — though  to  hall  and  bower 
He  gather’d  followers  from  far  and  near ; 

He  knew  them  flatterers  of  the  festal  hour, 

The  heartless  parasites  of  present  cheer. 

Byron’s  Cliilde  Harold 


COURTSHIP. 

Bring,  therefore,  all  the  forces  that  you  may, 

And  lay  incessant  battery  to  her  heart ; 

Plaints,  prayers,  vows,  ruth,  and  sorrow,  and  dismays— 
These  engines  can  the  proudest  love  convert. 

Spenser’s  Sonnets. 


154 


COUKTSIlir 


So  well  he  vvoo’d  her,  and  so  well  he  wrough  her, 

With  fair  entreaty  and  sweet  blandishment, 

''J'hat  at  the  length  unto  a bay  he  brought  her, 

So  that  she  to  his  speeches  was  content  ' 

To  lend  an  ear,  and  softly  to  relent. 

Spenser's  Fairy  Queen 

I do  not  love 

Much  ceremony;  suits  in  love  should  not, 

Like  suits  in  law,  be  rock’d  from  term  to  term. 

Shirlev 

There  is,  sir,  a critical  minute  in 
Every  man’s  wooing,  when  his  mistress  may 
Be  won,  which  if  he  carelessly  neglect 
To  prosecute,  he  may  wait  long  enough 
Before  he  gains  the  like  opportunity. 

Marmyan. 

She  is  beautiful,  therefore  to  be  woo’d ; 

She  is  woman,  therefore  to  be  won. 

Shakspeare, 

Flatter  and  praise,  commend,  extol  their  graces ; 

Though  ne’er  so  black,  say  they  have  angels’  faces. 

That  man  that  has  a tongue,  I say,  is  no  man, 

If  with  his  tongue  he  cannot  win  a woman. 

Shakspeare. 

Say  that  she  rail ; why  then  I ’ll  tell  her  plain, 

She  sings  as  sweetly  as  the  nightingale ; 

Say  that  she  frown ; I ’ll  say,  she  looks  as  clear 
As  morning  roses  newly  wash’d  with  dew ; 

Say  she  be  mute,  and  will  not  speak  a word ; 

Then  I ’ll  commend  her  volubility, 

And  say,  she  uttereth  piercing  eloquence. 

Shakspeare. 

But  tho’  I lov’d  you  well,  I woo’d  you  not; 

And  yet,  good  faith,  I wish’d  myself  a man 
Or,  that  we  women  had  men’s  privilege 
Of  speaking  first. 


Shakspeare. 


COURTSHIP. 


155 


In  these  ^rs  of  mine, 

These  credulous  ears,  he  pour’d  the  sweetest  words 
That  art  or  love  could  frame. 

Beaumont 


I am  not  form’d,  by  flattery  and  praise. 

By  sighs  and  tears,  and  all  the  whining  trade 
Of  love,  to  feed  a fair  one’s  vanity, 

To  charm  at  once,  and  spoil  her. 

^ Thomson 

He  that  would  win  his  dame,  must  do 
As  Love  does  when  he  draws  his  bow; 

With  one  hand  thrust  the  lady  from. 

And  with  the  other  pull  her  home. 

Butler’s  Hudibras 


For,  you  must  know,  a widow’s  won 
With  brisk  attempt  and  putting  on ; 

With  ent’ring  manfully,  and  urging. 

Not  slow  approaches,  like  a virgin. 

Butler’s  Hudibras, 
She  most  attracts  who  longest  can  refuse. 

Aaron  Hill. 


With  easy  freedom  and  a gay  address, 
A pressing  lover  seldom  wants  success. 

A witty,  wild,  inconstant,  free  gallant. 


Rowe 

Rowe. 


To  me  he  came ; my  heart  with  rapture  sprung. 

To  see  the  blushes,  when  his  faltering  tongue 
First  said,  I love.  My  eyes  consent  reveal, 

And  plighted  vows  our  faithful  passion  seal. 

Gay’s  Dione, 


So,  with  decorum  al'.  things  carried. 

Miss  frown’d,  and  blush’d,  and  then  was  married. 

Goldsmith. 


She  half  consents  who  silently  denies. 


OlflD. 


Men  dream  in  courtship,  but  in  wedlock  wake. 

Pope’s  Eloisa 


156 


COURTSHIP. 


Like  a lovely  trt*e 

She  grew  tc  wonidnhood,  and  between  whiles 
Rejected  severaJ  suitors,  just  to  learr 
How  t"  accept  a betUT  in  his  turn. 

Byron’s  Don  Juar^. 

I’he  gentle  pressure  and  the  thrilling  touch. 

Byron’s  Don  Jvan 

1\)  pick  up  gloves,  and  fans,  and  kniiting-needles, 

And  list  for  songs  and  tunes,  and  watch  for  smiles, 

And  smile  at  pretty  prattle,  and  look  into 
The  eyes  of  maids  as  tho’  they  were  bright  star? 

Byron 

But  yet  she  listen’d — ’t  is  enough — 

Who  listens  once  will  listen  twice. 

Her  heart,  be  sure,  is  not  of  ice, 

And  one  refusal ’s  no  rebuff. 

Byron’s  Mazeppa 

Then  thro’  my  brain  the  thought  did  pass. 

Even  as  a flash  of  lightning  there. 

That  there  was  somethinor  in  her  air 

O 

That  would  not  doom  me  to  despair. 

Byron’s  Mazeppa. 

Skill’d  in  the  ogle  of  a roguish  eye. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 
Not  much  he  kens,  I ween,  of  woman’s  breast. 

Who  thinks  that  wanton  thing  is  won  by  sighs.. 

Do  proper  homage  to  thine  idol’s  eyes. 

But  not  too  humbly,  or  she  will  despise : 

Disguise  even  tenderness,  if  thou  art  wise. 

I^yron’s  Childe  Hat  old. 

In  whispers  low. 

And  sweet  as  softest  music’s  ^gentle  flow. 

The  lovers  spoke. 

Mrs.  Hoy^r. 

Whue  the  dimple  and  blush,  starting  soft  to  her  cheek, 
'Pold  the  tale  that  her  tongue  was  too  timid  to  speak. 

Mrs.  Osoooi). 


COWARDICE  - PEAK, 


1 


There ’s  nothing  like  mrinoeuvcring  in  season, 

Ye  parents,  who  ha\e  daughters  to  dispose  of, 
Especially  if  you  have  any  reason 

To  think  in  maidenhood  their  lives  will  doze  ofl^ 

And  there  is  one  in  fifty  thousand  chances, 

That  Cash’s  eldest  son  will  make  advances. 

Dawes’  Geraldine 
When  happy  lovers  meet 
fn  some  lone  spot,  where  not  a sound  is  heard 
Save  their  own  sighs,  or  the  unequal  beat 

Of  their  young  hearts  to  tender  wishes  stirr’d, 

As  hand  seeks  hand,  and  meeting  glances  tell 
The  unutter’d  tale  of  love  too  sweetly  well. 

Mrs.  a.  B.  Welby. 


COWARDICE  --  FEAR. 

His  hand  did  quake, 

And  tremble  like  a leaf  of  aspen  green. 

And  troubled  blood  thro’  his  pale  face  was  seen 
To  come  and  go,  with  tidings  from  the  heart. 

As  it  a running  messenger  had  been. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queevt^ 
Thereat  he  smitten  was,  with  great  affright, 

And  trembling  terror  did  his  heart  appal, 

Nor  wilt  he  what  to  think  of  that  same  sight, 

Nor  what  to  say,  nor  what  to  do  at  all. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queen. 
Cowards  die  many  times  before  their  death  ; 

The  valiant  never  taste  of  death  but  once. 

Shakspeare, 

And  extreme  fear  can  neither  fight  nor.fi^. 

But,  coward-like,  with  trembling  terror  die. 


Shakspeahr^ 


158 


COUARDICE-FEAR. 


And,  though  he  posted  e’er  so  fast. 

His  fear  was  greater  than  his  haste  ; 

For  fear,  though  fleeter  than  the  wind, 

Believes  ’t  is  always  left  behind 

Butler’8  Hudibrai 

Those  that  fly  may  fight  again. 

Which  he  can  never  do  that ’s  slain  ; 

Hence  timely  running’s  no  mean  part 
Of  conduct  in  the  martial  art. 

Butler’s  Huaxhra\ 

Aghast  he  stands, 

Stiffen’d  with  fear,  unable  to  resist. 

And  impotent  to  fly. 

Somervile’s  HobbinoL 
Think  not,  coward,  wit  can  hide  the  shame 
Of  hearts,  which,  while  they  dare  not  strike  for  fear, 
Would  make  it  virtue  in  them  to  forbear. 

Lord  Brooke. 

Desponding  fear,  of  feeble  fancies  full, 

Weak  and  unmanly,  weakens  ev’ry  pow’r. 

Thomson’s  Seasons, 

Grac’d  with  a sword,  but  worthier  of  a fan. 


COWPER. 

My  blood  ran  back, 

My  shaking  knees  against  each  other  knock’d — 

On  the  cold  pavement  down  I fell  entranc’d, 

Dryden. 

The  wretch  that  fears  to  drown,  will  break  thro’  flames ; 
Or,  in  his  dread  of  flames,  will  plunge  in  waves. 

When  eagles  are  in  view,  the  screaming  doves 
Will  cower  beneath  the  feet  of  man  for  safety. 

Cibber. 

Imagination  frames  events  unknown. 

In  wild,  fancastic  shapes  of  hideous  ruin  ; 

And  what  it  fears  creates ! 


Hannah  More. 


CREDULITY  - DOUBT. 


159 


As  mongrels  bay  the  lion  in  a cage. 

Dr  Johnson 

Must  I consume  my  life — this  little  life, 

In  guarding  against  all  may  make  it  less  ? 

It  is  not  worth  so  much  ! — it  were  to  die 
Before  my  hour,  to  live  in  dread  of  death. 

Byron’s  Sardanapcdus 
It  has  a strange,  quick  jar  upon  the  ear, 

This  cocking  of  a pistol,  when  you  know 
A moment  more  will  bring  the  sight  to  bear 
Upon  your  person,  twelve  yards  off  or  so. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

And  cheeks  all  pale,  which,  but  an  hour  before. 

Blush’d  at  the  praise  of  their  own  loveliness. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold 
Go — let  thy  less  than  woman’s  hand 
Assume  the  distaff — not  the  brand. 

Byron’s  Bride  of  Ahydos 
Hope,  fear,  and  love, 

Joy,  doubt,  and  hate,  may  other  spirits  move, 

But  touch  not  his,  who,  ev’ry  waking  hour. 

Has  one  fix’d  dread,  and  always  feels  its  pow’r. 

Crabbe. 


CREDULITY  — DOUBT. 

Our  doubts  are  traitors. 

And  make  us  lose  the  good  we  oft  might  win 
By  fearing  to  attempt. 

Shakspeare. 

Oh,  tiow  this  tyrant,  doubt,  torments  my  breast ! 

My  thoughts,  like  birds,  who,  frighten’d  from  their  ne.st, 
Around  the  place  where  all  was  hush'd  before, 

Flutter,  and  hardly  nestle  any  more 


Otway 


60 


CRITICISM  - STYLE  - TASTE 


Lest  m(rn  suspect  your  taic  untrue, 

Keep  probability  in  view. 

Gay’s 

For  when  we  risk  no  contradiction, 

It  tempts  the  tongue  to  deal  in  fiction  ; 

Those  things  that  startle  me  or  you, 

I grant,  are  strange,  yet  may  be  true. 

Gay’s  FaIAt% 

Or,  indolent,  to  each  extreme  they  fall. 

To  trust  in  everything,  or  doubt  of  all. 

Pope’s  Essax^  on  Matt. 

A daring  infidel,  (and  such  there  arc. 

From  pride,  example,  lucre,  rage,  revenge. 

Or  pure  heroical  defect  of  thought,) 

Of  all  earth’s  madmen,  most  deserves  a chain. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 
Y^our  noblest  natures  are  most  credulous. 

Chapman. 

Security’s  blind  nurse,  the  dream  of  fools,  ^ 

The  drunkard’s  ape,  that,  feeling  for  his  way. 

Even  when  he  thinks  in  his  deluded  sense 
To  snatch  at  safety,  falls  without  defence. 

Mason. 

And  shall  we  own  such  judgment?  No;  as  soon 
Seek  roses  in  December,  ice  in  June, 

Hope  constancy  in  wind,  or  corn  in  chaff. 

Believe  a woman,  or  an  epitaph. 

Byron’s  English  Bards,  » 


CRITICISM  ~ STYLE  — TASTE, 

Vv’ha  shall  dispute  what  the  Reviewers  say  ! 
Their  word ’s  sufficient ; and  to  ask  a reason. 
In  such  a state  as  theirs  is  downright  treason. 


CnuRcmi.L. 


CRITICISM  - STY  LE  - TASTE. 


161 


Cntics  to  plays  for  tfie  same  t^nd  resort 
That  surgeons  wait  on  trials  in  a court  : 

For  innocence  condermrd  they’ve  no  respect, 

Pro/ided  they  Ve  a body  to  dissect. 

CONGREVI, 

On  me,  when  dunces  are  satiric, 

I take  it  for  a panegyric  ; 

Hated  by  fools,  and  fools  to  hate, 

Be  that  my  motto,  and  my  fate. 

Dean  Swift. 

Hot,  noisy,  envious,  proud,  the  scribbling  fry 
Burn,  hiss  and  bounce,  waste  paper,  ink,  and  die. 

Young, 

Let  such  teach  others,  who  themselves  excel, 

4nd  censure  freely,  who  have  written  well. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism, 
Some  have  at  first  for  wits,  then  poets  pass’d  ; 

Turn’d  critics  next,  and  prov’d  plain  fools  at  last. 

Some  neither  can  for  wits  nor  critics  pass. 

As  heavy  mules  are  neither  horse  nor  ass. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism. 
A perfect  judge  will  read  each  work  of  wit 
With  the  same  spirit  that  its  author  writ ; 

Survey  the  whole,  nor  seek  slight  faults  to  find. 

Where  nature  moves,  and  rapture  charms  the  mind. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism. 
Neglect  the  rule  each  verbal  critic  lays. 

For  not  to  know  some  trifles  is  a praise  ; 

And  men  of  breeding,  sometimes  men  of  wit, 

T’  ai  oid  great  errors,  must  the  less  commit. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism. 
Same  to  conceit  alone  their  taste  confine. 

And  curious  thoughts  struck  out  at  ev’ry  line — 

Pleas’d  wdth  a work  where  nothing’s  just  or  fit. 

One  glaring  chaos,  and  wild  heap  of  wit. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism. 


11 


1G2 


CRITICS. 


Others  for  language  all  their  care  express. 

And  value  books,  as  women  men,  for  dress  ; 

Their  praise  is  still — “The  style  is  excellent,” 

The  sense  they  humbly  take  uj^on  content. 

Popk’s  Eiifiay  on  Cri/icijrn. 

True  ease,  in  writing,  comes  from  art,  not  chance, 

As  those  move  easiest  who  have  learnM  to  dance. 

Pori:’s  Ensay  on  Cniici>Mn 

Talk  as  you  will  of  taste,  my  friend,  you  ’ll  find 
Two  of  a face,  as  soon  as  of  a mind 

Pope’s  Imitations, 

Manner  is  all  in  all,  whate’er  writ. 

The  substitute  for  genius,  sense,  and  wdt 

COWPER 

A man  must  serve  his  time  at  ev’ry  trade. 

Save  censure  ; critics  all  are  ready-made  : 

Take  hackney’d  jokes  from  Miller,  got  by  rote. 

With  just  enough  of  learning  to  misquote  ; 

A mind  w^ell  skill’d  to  forge  or  find  a fault, 

A turn  for  punning — call  it  Attic  salt — 

Fear  not  to  lie — ’twill  seem  a lucky  hit; 

Shrink  not  from  blasphemy — ’t  will  pass  for  wit ; 

Care  not  for  feeling,  pass  your  project  jest, — • 

And  stand  a critic,,  hated  yet  caress’d. 

Byron’s  English  Bards,,  Sre, 

Applauds  to-day  what  yesterday  he  curst, 

Lampoons  the  wisest,  and  extols  the  worst ; 

While,  hard  to  tell,  so  coarse  a daub  he  lays, 

VV^liich  sullies  most,  the  slander  or  the  praise. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity 


CRITICS.  — (See  Criticism.) 


CRUELTY  - TORTUREL 


163 


CRUELTY  — TORTURE. 

A stony  adversary,  an  inhuman  wretch, 

Incapable  of  pity,  void  and  empty 
From  every  drachm  of  mercy. 

Shakspear*. 

The  poor  beetle,  that  we  tread  upon, 

In  corporal  suffering  feels  a pang  as  great 
As  when  a giant  dies. 

Shakspeare. 

Do  not  insult'  calamity ; 

It  is  a barbarous  grossness  to  lay  on 
The  weight  of  scorn,  where  heavy  misery 
Too  much  already  weighs  men’s  fortunes  down. 

Daniel. 

Thou  shalt  behold  him  stretch’d  in  all  the  ao-onies 

o 

Of  a tormenting  and  a shameful  death  ! 

His  bleeding  bowels,  and  his  broken  limbs. 

Insulted  o’er  by  a vile  butchering  villain. 

Otway’s  Venice  Preserved, 
Bring  forth  the  rack  : 

Fetch  hither  cords,  and  knives,  and  sulphurous  flames ; 

He  shall  be  bound  and  gash’d,  his  skin  fleec’d,  burnt  alive  ; 
He  shall  be  hours,  days,  years,  a-dying ! 

Nat.  Lee. 

Wire-draw  his  skin,  spin  all  his  nerves  like  hair. 

And  work  his  tortur’d  flesh  as  thin  as  flame. 

Nat.  liEE. 

I reverence  the  coachman  who  cries  “Gee,” 

And  spares  the  lash.  When  I behold  a spider 
Prey  on  a fly,  a magpie  on  a worm, 

Or  view  a butcher,  with  horn-handled  knife, 

Slaughter  a tender  lamb  as  dead  as  mutton — 

Indeed,  indeed,  I ’m  ver}’’,  tery  sick  ! 

E ejected  ,dddr esses 


164 


CRUELTY  - TORTURE. 


The  savage  buue,  that  haunis  in  woods  remote, 

And  deserts  wild,  tears  not  the  fearful  traveller. 

If  hunger,  or  some  injury,  provoke  not. 

Rows 

Oh ! rather  fail  this  ardent  breath 
And  palsied  sink  this  hand  in  death. 

Ere  with  keen  taunt  and  lingering  blow 
I hover  o’er  a fallen  foe  ! 

Mrs.  Holford’s  Mar  gar  tt  of  Smou 

His  was  the  sternest,  hardest  breast 
That  ever  burnish’d  cuirass  press’d. 

Mrs.  Holford’s  Margaret  of  Anjou 

Thy  suing  to  these  men  were  as  the  bleating 
Of  the  lamb  to  the  butcher,  or  the  cry 
Of  seamen  to  the  surge. 

Byron’s  Marino  Faliero 
And  ponder  still 

On  pangs  that  longest  rack,  and  latest  kiU. 

Byron’s  Corsair 


A saint  had  cried  out, 

Even  with  the  crown  of  glory  in  his  eyes, 

At  such  inhuman  artifice  of  pain 
As  was  forc’d  on  him. 

Byron’s  Two  Foscari. 

Nurtur’d  in  blood  betimes,  his  heart  delights 
In  vengeance  gloating  on  another’s  pain. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harola 


Humanity  is  policy  in  war. 

And  cruelty’s  a prodigal,  that  heaps 
A suicidal  burthen  on  itself. 

Dawes’  Athenia  of  Damascus 


CURIOSITY. 


165 


CURIOSITY. 

^ 'i>athe  that  low  vice,  Curiosity. 

Byron’s  Don  Jtiati. 
*^ce  tha  first  fatal  hour  when  Eve, 

W'ith  a.l  the  fruits  of  Eden  blest, 

’ only  one,  rather  than  leave 

hat  one  unknown,  lost  all  the  rest. 

Moore’s  Loves  of  the  Angels. 

•i  reign’d  in  Eden,  in  that  heavy  hour 

When  the  arch-tempter  sought  our  mother’s  bower, 

In  thrilling  charms  her  yielding  heart  assail’d. 

And  even  o’er  dread  Jehovah’s  word  prevail’d. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity, 

’T  is  Curiosity — who  hath  not  felt 
Its  spirit,  and  before  its  altar  knelt? 

Sprague’s  Cxiriohity,  / 

Be  it  a bonfire,  or  a city’s  blaze. 

The  gibbet’s  victim,  or  the  nation’s  gaze, 

A female  atheist,  or  a learned  dog, 

A monstrous  pumpkin,  or  a mammoth  hog, 

A murder,  or  a muster ; — ’t  is  the  same, 

Life’s  follies,  glories,  griefs, — all  feed  the  flame. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity. 

Sport  drops  his  ball.  Toil  throws  his  hammer  by. 

Thrift  breaks  a bargain  off,  to  please  his  eye. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity 

How  many  a noble  art,  now  widely  known, 

Owes  us  young  impulse  to  this  power  alone  ! 

Sprague’s  Curiosity 

As  down  the  pane  the  rival  rain-drops  chase. 

Curious  he  ’ll  watch  to  see  which  wins  the  race ; 

And  lei  two  dogs  beneath  his  window  fight. 

He  ’ll  shut  his  Bible  to  er;joy  the  sight. 

Sprague’s  CunosUy. 


CURSES  - MALEDICTIONS. 


How  thro’  the  buzzing  crowd  he  threads  his  way, 

To  catch  the  flying  rumours  of  the  day. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity 


CURSES  — MALEDICTIONS. 


May  all  th’  infections  that  the  sun  sucks  up 
From  bogs,  fens,  flats,  upon  him  fall,  and  make  birr- 
By  inch-meal  a disease  ! 

Shakspe^fi. 


Poison  be  the’i  Vink  ! 

Gall,  worse  than  gall,  the  daintiest  meat  they  taste ! — 
Their  softest  touch  as  smart  as  lizard’s  stings ! 

Their  music  frightful  as  the  serpent’s  hiss  ! 

And  boding  screech-owls  make  their  concerts  full ! 

Shakspeare. 


May  sorrow,  shame,  and  sickness  ov^ertake  her, 

And  all  her  beauties,  like  my  hopes,  be  blasted ! 

Rowe, 


Let  the  world  grow  dark. 

That  the  extinguish’d  sun  may  hide  thy  shame ! 

Aaron  Hill. 


And  when  life  declines. 

May  thy  sure  heirs  stand  titt’ring  round  thy  bed. 

And,  ush’ring  in  their  fav’ rites,  burst  thy  locks, 

And  ill  their  laps  with  gold,  till  want  and  care 
With  joy  depart,  and  cry,  “We  want  no  more  !” 

Shenstone* 

May  the  grass  wither  from  thy  feet ! the  woods 
Deny  thee  shelter!  earth  a home  1 the  dust 
A grave  1 and  heaven  her  God  ! 

Byron’s  CVrm, 

Bo  let  him  stand,  through  ages  yet  unborn, 

Fix’d  statue  on  the  pedestal  of  scorn  1 

Byron’s  Curs^  of  Minerva. 


CUSTOM  - HABIT. 


167 


May  screaming  night-fiends,  hot  in  recreant  gore. 

Rive  their  strain’d  fibres  to  their  heart’s  rank  core. 

Till  startled  conscience  heap,  in  wild  dismay, 

Convulsive  curses  on  the  source  of  day  ! 

Rokert  Treat  Paink 
Bui  curses  are  like  arrows  shot  upright. 

That  oftentimes  on  our  own  heads  do  light : 

And  many  times  ourselves  in  rage  prove  worst ; 

The  fox  ne’er  better  thrives  than  when  accurst. 


CUSTOM  — HABIT 

All  habits  gather  by  unseen  degrees. 

As  brooks  make  rivers,  rivers  run  to  seas. 

Dryden’s  Ovid. 


Custom’s  the  world’s  great  idol  we  adore. 

And,  knowing  this,  we  seek  to  know  no  more. 

What  education  did  at  first  conceive. 

Our  ripen’d  eye  confirms  us  to  believe. 

POMFRET. 


A custom 

More  honour’d  in  the  breach  than  the  observance. 

SlIAKSPEARE. 


How  use  doth  breed  a habit  in  a man ! 


Shakspeare 

Custom  does  often  reason  overrule. 

And  only  serves  for  reason  to  the  fool. 

Rochester. 

Custom  forms  us  all ; 

Oui  thoughts,  our  morals,  our  most  fix’d  belief. 

Are  consequences  of  our  place  of  birth. 

Aaron  Hiu>. 

Custom,  ’t  is  true,  a venerable  lyrant. 

O’er  servile  man  extends  her  blind  dominion. 


Thoiwson 


168 


DANCING  - DANGER PERU*. 


My  very  chains  and  I grew  friends. 

So  mucn  a long  communion  tends 
To  make  us  wnai  we  are  ; even  I 
Regain’d  my  freedom  with  a sigh. 

Byron’s  Prisoner  of  ChiUon, 
As  custom  arbitrates,  whose  shifting  sway 
Our  life  and  manners  must  alike  obey. 

Byron’s  Hints  from  /hyrace* 


DANCING.  — (See  Ball.) 


DANGER  — PERIL. 


The  absent  danger  greater  still  appears  , 

And  less  he  fears,  who ’s  near  the  thing  he  iea*K>. 

Danieju 

From  a safe  port,  ’tis  easy  to  give  counsel. 

Shakspeaxe. 

We  ’ve  scotch’d  the  snake,  not  k ll’d  it. 

She’ll  close,  and  be  herself ; while  our  poor  malice 
Remains  in  danger  of  her  former  tooth. 

Siiakspearb:. 

For  he  that  stands  upon  a slippery  place. 

Makes  nice  of  no  vile  hold  to  sta}  him  up. 

Shakspeare. 


Let  terror  strike  slaves  mute ; 

Much  danger  makes  great  hearts  most  resolute. 

What  is  danger 

More  than  the  weakness  of  our  apprehension  ? 

A poor  cold  part  o’  the  blood  ; whom  takes  it  hold  ol  f 
Cowards  and  wicked  livers;  valiant  minds 
Were'  <nade  the  masters  of  it. 


Beaumont  anu  FLFTtiLPa, 


DAY -MORNING  -NIGHT,  &.c. 


1G9 


Our  dangers  and  delights  are  near  allies ; 

From  the  same  stem  the  rose  and  prickle  rise 

Aleyn, 

But  there  are  human  natures  so  allied 
Unto  the  savage  love  of  enterprise, 

That  they  will  seek  for  peril  as  a pleasure. 

Byron- 


DAY  — MORNING  — NIGHT,  &c. 

Dark  night  that  from  the  eye  its  function  takes, 

The  ear  more  quick  of  apprehension  makes ; 

Wherein  it  doth  impair  the  seeing  sense, 

It  pays  the  hearing  double  recompense. 

Shakspeahk. 

The  iron  tongue  of  midnight  hath  told  twelve. 

Shakspeare. 

Night’s  candles  are  burnt  out,  and  jocund  day 
Stands  tip-toe  on  the  misty  mountain  tops. 

Shakspeare, 

But  look  ! the  moon,  in  russet  mantle  clad, 

Walks  o’er  the  dew  of  yon  high  eastern  hill. 

Shakspeare, 

Oft  till  the  star,  that  rose  at  evening  bright, 

Towards  heaven’s  descent  had  sloped  his  westerning  wheel 

Milton. 

Noai  came  still  evening  on,  and  twilight  grey 
Had  in  her  sober  livery  all  things  clad  : 

Silence  accompanied  ; for  beasts  and  birds. 

They  to  their  grassy  couch,  these  to  their  nests 
Weie  sunk,  all  but  the  woeful  nightingale. 

Milton’s  Paradise.  /a)H 
Twilight,  short  arbiter  ’twixt  day  and  niglit. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost. 


170 


DAY -MORNING -NIGHT,  &lc. 


Sweet  is  the  breath  of  morn  ; her  rising  sweet, 

With  charm  of  earliest  birds. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost, 
The  sun  had  long  since,  in  the  lap 
Of  Thetis,  taken  out  his  nap ; 

And,  like  a lobster  boil’d,  the  moon 
From  black  to  red  began  to  turn. 

Butler’s  Hudibras. 

The  morning  lark,  the  messenger  of  day, 

Saluted  with  her  song  the  morning  grey  ; 

And  soon  the  sun  arose  with  beams  so  bright, 

’rhat  all  th’  horizon  laugh’d,  to  see  the  joyous  sight. 

Dryden. 

See  ! the  night  wears  away,  and  cheerful  morn. 

All  sweet  and  fresh,  spreads  from  the  rosy  east ; 

Fair  nature  seems  reviv’d,  and  even  my  heart 
Sits  light  and  jocund  at  the  day's  return. 


This  dead  of  night,  this  silent  hour  of  darkness, 
Nature  for  rest  ordain’d,  and  soft  repose. 


Rowe. 


Rowe. 


O,  treach’rous  night ! 

Thou  lend’st  thy  ready  veil  to  every  treason. 

And  teeming  mischiefs  thrive  beneath  thy  shade ! 

Aaron  Hill. 

The  waking  dawn. 

When  night-fallen  dews,  by  day’s  warm  courtship  won, 
From  reeking  roses  climb’d  to  kiss  the  sun ; 

Nature,  new-blossom’d,  shed  her  colours  round  ; 

The  dew-bent  primrose  kiss’d  the  breeze-swept  ground. 

Aaron  Hiil. 

— I’he  approach  of  night, 

The  skies  yet  blushing  with  departing  light. 

When  falling  dews  with  spangles  deck  the  glade, 

An  i the  low  sun  has  lengthen’d  every  shade. 


Pope 


DAY  - MORNING  - NKJHT,  &c. 


171 


Now  stir  the  fire,  and  close  the  shutters  fast, 

Let  fall  the  curtains,  wheel  the  sofa  round, 

And,  while  the  bubbling  and  loud-hissing  urn 
Throws  up  a steamy  column,  and  the  cup 
That  cheers  but  not  inebriates,  waits  on  each, 

So  let  us  welcome  peaceful  evening  in, 

Cowper’s  r ask 

Night,  sable  goddess,  from  her  ebon  throne. 

In  ray  less  majesty  now  stretches  forth 
Her  leaden  sceptre  o’er  a slumbering  world. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts, 
Now  the  sun,  so  faintly  glancing 
O’er  the  western  hills  his  ray; 

Evening  shadows  quick  advancing. 

Triumph  o’er  the  fading  day. 

Cobb. 

Day  ghmmer’d  in  the  east,  and  the  white  moon 
Hung  like  a vapour  in  the  cloudless  sky. 

Rogers’s  Italy, 

The  quiet  night,  now  dappling,  ’gan  to  wane. 

Dividing  darkness  from  the  dawning  main. 

Byron’s  Island, 

The  morn  is  up  again,  the  dewy  morn. 

With  breath  all  incense,  and  with  cheek  all  bloom. 
Laughing  the  clouds  away  with  playful  scorn. 

And  living  as  if  earth  contain’d  no  tomb — 

And  glowing  into  day. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 

Night  wanes — the  vapours,  round  the  mountains  curl’d. 
Melt  into  morn,  and  light  awakes  the  world. 

Byron’s  Lara. 

Ah  was  so  still,  so  soft,  in  earth  and  air, 

You  scarce  would  start,  to  meet  a spirit  there  ; 

Secure  that  nought  of  ev^il  could  delight 
To  walk  in  such  a scene,  on  such  a night ! 

Byron’s  Ijira, 


172 


DAY -MORNING -NIGHT,  &c 


The  night 

Shows  stars  and  women  in  a belter  light. 

Byron’s  Don  Jnan 
Blest  power  of  sunshine  ! genial  day  ’ 

What  balm,  what  life  is  in  thy  ray  ! 

To  feel  thee  is  such  real  bliss, 

T.’hat,  had  the  world  no  joy  but  this, 

To  sit  in  sunshine  calm  and  sweet — 

It  were  a world  too  exquisite 
For  man  to  leave  it  for  the  gloom, 

The  deep,  cold  shadow  of  the  tomb  ! 

Moore’s  Lalla  Rookh, 

It  was  an  evening  bright  and  Still 
As  ever  blush’d  on  wave  or  bower, 

Smiling  from  heaven,  as  if  nought  ill 
Could  happen  in  so  sweet  an  hour. 

Moore’s  Loves  of  the  Angels, 
Soft  as  a bride,  the  rosy  dawn 
From  dewy  sleep  doth  rise, 

And,  bath’d  in  blushes,  hath  withdrawn 
The  mantle  from  her  eyes  ; 

And,  with  her  orbs  dissolv’d  in  dew, 

Bends  like  an  angel  softly  through 
The  blue-pavilion’d  skies. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Welby. 
O Twilight^  spirit  that  dost  render  birth 
To  dim  enchantments — melting  heaven  to  earth — 

Leaving  on  craggy  hills  and  running  streams 
A softness  like  the  atmosphere  of  dreams. 

Mrs.  Norton’s  Dream, 

How  calmly  sinks  the  setting  sun  ! 

Yet  twilight  lingers  still ; 

And,  beautiful  as  dream  of  heaven, 

It  slumbers  on  the  hill. 


G.  D.  Prentice 


DEATH -GRAVE. 


17 


is  niidnighl’s  holy  hour — and  silence  now 
Is  brooding,  like  a gentle  spirit,  o’er 
The  still  and  pulseless  world. 

G.  D.  Prentice, 

Ere  the  evening  lamps  are  lighted, 

And,  like  phantoms  grim  and  tall, 

Shadows  from  the  fitful  fireside 
Dance  upon  the  parlour  wall. 

FI.  W.  Longfellow 

Night’s  starry  host  gather’d  in  brightness  high. 

And  not  a cloud  darken’d  the  shining  sky ; 

The  moon  rode  by,  and  all  her  glittering  band 
Bath’d  in  a flood  of  light  the  smiling  land. 

Mrs.  C.  H.  W.  Esling. 
The  sun  now  rests  upon  the  mountain  tops. 

Carlos  Wilcox. 

The  hour  of  melancholy,  mirth,  and  love. 

Mrs.  Brooks. 

The  busy  world  was  still,  the  solemn  moon 
Smil’d  forth  her  silvery  beauty ; and  the  stars. 

Like  living  diamonds  in  a sea  of  glass. 

Danc’d  in  the  sapphire  canopy  of  heaven. 

P.  B.  Elder. 

The  king  of  day  had  dipp’d  his  weary  head 
Within  old  father  Ocean’s  billowy  bed, 

And  “ twilight  grey”  had  spread  its  dusky  veil 
O’er  all  terrestrial  objects,  hill  and  dale. 

J.  T.  Watson 


DEATH  — GRAVE 

Death  is  a fearful  thing : 

The  wearied  and  most  loathed  eartlily  life, 
That  age,  ache,  penury,  and  imprisonment 
Can  lay  on  nature,  is  a Paradise 
JTo  wha  we  fear  of  death  ! 


SllAKSrEAKJs. 


174 


DEATII~GRA\E. 


Is  it  not  better  to  die  willingly, 

Than  linger  till  the  glass  be  all  outrun  ? 

SpENSt* 

Imperious  Caesar,  dead  and  turn’d  to  clay, 

Might  stop  a hole,  to  keep  the  wind  away  : 

O ! that  the  earth,  which  kept  the  world  in  awe,  ■ 

Should  patch  a wall,  to  expel  the  Winter’s  daw  ! 

SlIAKSPEARE 

Death  lies  on  her,  like  an  untimely  frost 
Upon  the  sweetest  flower  of  all  the  field. 

Shakspeare 

Can  storied  urn,  or  animated  bust 

Back  to  its  mansion  call  the  fleeting  breath  ? 

Can  honour’s  voice  provoke  the  silent  dust. 

Or  flatt’ry  soothe  the  dull  cold  ear  of  death  ? 

Gray’s  Elegy 

Death,  grim  death 
Will  fold  me  in  his  leaden  arms,  and  press 
Me  close  to  his  cold,  clayey  breast. 

Congreve 

The  sceptred  king,  the  burthen’d  slave, 

The  humble  and  the  haughty,  die  ; 

The  rich,  the  poor,  the  base,  the  brave. 

In  dust,  without  distinction,  lie. 


Death  is  the  crown  of  life : 

Were  death  denied,  poor  man  would  live  in  vain. 

Death  wounds  to  cure ; we  fall,  we  rise,  we  reign  ; 

Spring  from  our  fetters,  fasten  to  the  skies. 

Where  blooming  Eden  withers  from  our  sight. 

I'his  king  of  terrors  is  the  prince  of  peace. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 

The  knell,  the  shroud,  the  mattock,  and  the  grave. 

The  de^^p,  damp  vault,  the  darkness,  and  the  worm ! 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 


DEATH -GRAVE.  175 

/V  death-bod  ’&  a aetector  of  the  heart : 

Here  tired  dissimulation  drops  her  mask, 

Through  life’s  grimace  that  mistress  of  the  scene ; 

Here  real  and  apparent  are  the  same. 

Young’s  Night  Thought 
O death,  all  eloquent ! you  only  prove 
What  dust  we  dote  on,  when ’t  is  man  we  love. 

Pope’s  Ehnsa 

''  Death,  when  unmask’d,  shows  us  a friendly  face. 

And  is  a terror  only  at  a distance. 

Goldsmith 

The  prince,  who  kept  the  world  in  awe, 

The  judge,  whose  dictate  fix’d  the  law 
The  rich,  the  poor,  the  great,  the  small, 

Are  levell’d  : death  confounds  them  all. 

Gay’s  Fables. 

There  shall  the  yew  her  sable  branches  spread. 

And  mournful  cypress  rear  her  fringed  head ; 

From  thence  snail  thyme  and  myrtle  send  perfume. 

And  laurel  evergreen  o’ershade  the  tomb. 

^ Gay’s  Diom 

Loaves  have  their  times  to  fall, 

And  flowers  to  wither  at  the  north  wind’s  breath, 

And  stars  to  set  — but  all, 

Thou  hast  all  seasons  for  thine  own,  O death  ! 

Mrs.  Hemans 

Let  him  who  crawls,  enamour’d  of  decay, 

Cling  to  his  couch,  and  sicken  years  away. 

Heave  his  thick  breath,  and  shake  his  palsied  head  ; — 

Ours  the  fresh  turf,  and  not  the  fev’rish  bed  ; 

While,  gasp  by  gasp,  he  falters  forth  his  soul, 

Ours  with  one  pang— one  bound — escapes  control. 

Byron’s  Corsaij 

How  peaceful  and  how  powerful  is  the  grave  ! 


Bvron 


176 


DEATH -GRAVE. 


(jike  lea'^fs  of  the  torest  when  Summer  is  green, 

That  host,  with  their  banners,  at  sunset  were  seen  ; 

Like  the  leaver,  of  the  forest,  when  Autumn  hath  bln^n, 
That  host,  on  the  morrow,  lay  wither’d  and  strown  ! 

Byron 

And  dull  the  film  along  his  dim  eye  grew. 

Byron’s  Lara 

Yes,  this  was  once  ambition’s  airy  hall ; 

The  dome  of  thought — the  palace  of  the  soul. 

Byr)n’s  Cliilde  Harold 

Death  shuns  the  wretch  who  fain  the  blow  would  meet. 

Byron’s  Dun  Juaru 
At  times,  both  wish’d  for  and  implor’d, 

At  times  sought  with  self-pointed  sword. 

And  welcome  in  no  shape. 

Byron’s  Mazeppa, 

What  shall  he  be  ere  night? — Perchance  a thing 
O’er  which  the  raven  flaps  his  funeral  wing ! 

Byron’s  Cot  mir 

Oh  God  ! it  is  a fearful  thing 
To  see  the  human  soul  take  wing  ! 

Byron’s  Prisoner  of  Chill  on. 
How  sweetly  could  I lay  my  head 
^ Within  the  cold  grave’s  siient  breast, 

Where  sorrow’s  tears  no  more  are  shed, 

No  more  the  ills  of  life  molest! 

Moore. 

O,  grief  beyond  all  otber  griefs,  when  fate 
First  leaves  the  young  heart  lone  and  desolate. 

In  the  wide  world,  without  that  only  tie. 

For  w’hich  it  wish’d  to  live,  or  fear’d  to  die ! 

Moore’s  Lalln  Rookh, 
Like  one  who  draws  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  h m,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams. 

W.  C.  Bryant 


DEATH -GRAVE 


177 


¥et  wti)  sliGuid  death  be  link’d  with  fear? 

A single'  breath — a low-drawn  sigh — 

Can  break  the  ties  that  bind  us  here, 

And  waft  the  spirit  to  the  sky. 

Mrs.  A.  B.  Wei.s’st. 
I’here  lay  the  warrior  and  the  son  of  song, 

And  there — in  silence  till  the  judgment-day— 

The  orator,  whose  aihpersuading  tongue 

Had  mcv’d  the  nations  with  resistless  sway. 

Mrs.  Norton^s  Dream, 
Ah  ! it  is  sad  when  one  thus  link’d  departs ! 

When  Death,  that  mighty  sev’rer  of  true  hearts^ 

Sweeps  through  the  halls  so  lately  loud  in  mirth, 

And  leaves  pale  Sorrow  weeping  by  the  hearth ! 

Mrs.  Norton’s  Dream* 
Oh  ! what  a shadow  o’er  the  heart  is  flung, 

When  peals  the  requiem  of  the  lov’d  and  young! 

W.  G. 

Oh,  there  is  a sweetness  in  beauty’s  close. 

Like  the  perfume  scenting  the  wither’d  rose  ! 

J . G.  Percival, 

His  few  surviving  comrades  saw 
His  smile  when  rang  their  proud  hurra, 

And  the  red  field  was  won ; 

They  saw  in  death  his  eyelids  close 
Calmly,  as  to  a night’s  repose. 

Like  flowers  at  set  of  sun. 

FiTZ -GREEN  HaLLECIC 

All  at  rest  now— all  dust ! — -wave  flows  on  wave. 

But  the  sea  dries  not ! What  to  us  the  grave  ? 

It  brings  no  real  homily  ; we  sigh. 

Pause  for  a while,  and  murmur,  “All  must  die 
Then  rush  to  pleasure,  action,  sin,  once  more, 

Swell  the  loud  tide,  and  fret  unto  the  shore ! 

The  New  Ttmon. 


n 


178 


I)E(  AY 


And  death  is  terrible — the  tear, 

The  groan,  the  knell,  the  pall,  the  bier, 

And  all  we  know,  or  dream,  or  fear. 

Of  agony,  are  his  ! 

Fitz-green  Hali.eow 

Here  may  we  muse  at  this  lone  midnight  hour, 

When  thoughts  steal  on  us,  softly  as  the  tread 
Of  ghostly  forms,  from  yew  or  cypress  bower, 

Around  the  gloomy  mansions  of  the  dead. 

W.  C.  Lodge, 

In  the  deep  stillness  of  that  dreamless  state 
Of  sleep,  that  knows  no  waking  joys  again. 

W.  C.  Lodge 

And  Death  himself,  that  ceaseless  dun. 

Who  waits  on  all,  yet  waits ybr  none. 

Hon.  Nicholas  Biddle 

Methinks  it  were  no  pain  to  die 
On  such  an  eve,  when  such  a sky 
O’ercanopies  the  west ; 

To  gaze  my  nil  on  yon  calm  deep. 

And,  like  an  infant,  sink  to  sleep 
On  earth,  my  mother’s  breast ' 


DECAY 
It  is  saa 

To  see  the  light  of  beauty  wane  away. 

Know  eyes  are  dimming,  bosoms  shrivelling,  feet 
Losing  their  springs,  and  limbs  their  lily  roundnc^; 
But  it  is  worse  to  feel  our  heart-spring  gone, 

I'o  lose  hopr,  care  not  for  the  coming  thing. 

And  feel  all  things  go  to  decay  with  us. 


Bailey’s  Fesnut 


DECEIT  - HYPOCRISY . 


179 


Before  decay’s  effacing  fingers 

Have  swept  the  lines  where  beauty  lingers. 

Byron’s  Giaout* 

Sach  is  the  aspect  of  this  shore : 

T is  Greece,  but  living  Greece  no  more. 

Byron’s  Giaour. 

The  very  iron,  rock,  and  steel. 

Impervious  as  they  now  appear, 

The  gnawing  tooth  of  Time  must  feel, 

And  waste  with  each  succeeding  year. 

J,  T.  Wat  ^jon. 


DECEIT HYPOCRISY. 

Oh,  what  authority  and  show  of  truth 
Can  cunning  sin  cover  itself  withal ! 

ShAKSPEaRE. 

The  Devil  can  cite  scripture  for  his  purpose. 

An  evil  soul  producing  holy  witness. 

Is  like  a villain  with  a smiling  face, 

A goodly  apple,  rotten  at  the  core. 

Shakspeare, 

To  the  common  people, 

How  he  did  seem  to  dive  into  their  hearts. 

With  humble  and  familiar  courtesy ! 

Shakspeaue 

Notes  of  sorrow,  out  of  tune,  are  worse 
Than  priests  and  fanes  that  lie. 

Shakspeare 

Why,  I can  smile,  and  murder  while  I smile ; 

AriQ  cry  content  to  that  which  grieves  my  heart ; 

And  wet  my  cheek  with  artificial  tears ; 

And  frame  my  face  to  all  occasiems. 


Sh  iKSPE are 


180 


DECEIT  - HYPOCRISY 


Cries  out  upon  abuses,  seems  to  weep 
Over  his  country’s  wrongs ; and,  by  this  face, 

This  brow  of  seeming  justice,  he  did  win 
Tiie  hearts  of  ah  that  he  did  angle  for. 

SlI AK  SPK I f E 

Thsre  is  no  vice  so  simple,  but  assumes 
Some  mark  of  virtue  on  its  outward  parts. 

Shakspkare 

You  vow,  ana  swear,  and  superpraise  my  parts. 

When,  I am  sure,  you  hate  me  in  your  hearts 

Shaksplake. 

A creature  of  amphibious  nature 
On  land  a beast,  a fish  in  water, 

That  always  preys  on  grace  or  sin, 

A sheep  without,  a wolf  within. 

BuiLtK’s  Hudihras. 

An  “ignis  fatuus”  that  bewitches, 

And  leads  men  into  pools  and  ditches. 

Butler’s  Hudibraa 

As  thistles  wear  the  softest  down. 

To  hide  their  prickles  till  they  ’re  grown, 

And  then  declare  themselves,  and  tear 
' Whatever  ventures  to  come  near : 

So  a smooth  knave  does  greater  feats 
Than  one  that  idly  rails  and  threats. 

And  all  the  mischief  that  he  meant. 

Does,  like  the  rattlesnake,  prevent. 

Butler 

Damn  with  faint  praise,  assent  with  civil  leer, 

And,  without  sneering,  teach  the  rest  to  sneer 
Willing  to  wound,  and  yet  afraid  to  strike, 
lust  hint  a fault,  and  hesitate  dislike. 

Fopft. 

Before  her  face  her  handkerchief  she  spread, 

To  hide  the  flood  ol  tears  she  did  not  shed. 

Pope. 


DECEIT  - HYPOCRISY. 


181 


T is  not  my  talent  to  conceal  my  thoughts, 

Or  carry  smiles  and  sunshine  in  my  face, 

While  discontent  sits  heavy  at  my  heart. 

Addison’s  CaU. 

O what  a tangled  web  we  weave. 

When  first  we  practise  to  deceive  I 

Scott’s  Marmion. 

Thy  love  is  lust,  thy  friendship  all  a cheat. 

Thy  smiles  hypocrisy,  thy  words  deceit. 

Byron  to  Southey. 

You’re  wrong: — he  was  the  mdldest  manner’d  man 
That  ever  scuttled  ship,  or  cut  a throat ! 

With,  such  true  breeding  of  a gentleman. 

You  never  could  divine  his  real  thought. 

Byron’s  Lon  Juan. 
Even  innocence  itself  hath  many  a wile. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

Of  all  who  flock’d  to  swell  or  see  the  show. 

Who  car’d  about  the  corpse  ? The  funeral 
Made  the  attraction,  and  the  black  the  wo  ; 

There  throb b’d  not  there  one  heart  that  pierc’d  the  pall. 

Byron’s  Vision  of  Judgment. 

To  sigh,  yet  feel  no  pain, 

To  weep,  yet  know  not  why, 

To  sport  an  hour  with  beauty’s  chain, 

Then  cast  it  idly  by. 

Moore. 

To  kneel  at  many  a shrine, 

Yet  lay  the  heart  on  none. 

Moore 

Their  friendship  is  a lurking  snare. 

Their  honour  but  an  idle  breath. 

Their  smile,  the  smile  that  traitors  wear. 

Their  love  is  I'^ite,  their  life  is  death. 


W,  G.  Simms 


182 


DECLARATION  - PROPOSAL. 


An  open  foe  may  prove  a curse, 

But  a pretended  friend  is  worse. 

Gay’s  Fabler 

For  when  a smiling  face  doth  cloak  deceit, 
it  is  our  duty  to  expose  the  cheat. 

J.  T.  WArsof«» 


DECLARATION  — PROPOSAL. 

Thou — thou  hast  metamorphos’d  me  ; 

Made  me  neglect  my  studies,  lose  my  time. 

War  with  good  counsel,  set  the  world  at  nought. 

Made  me  with  musing  weak,  heart-sick  with  thought. 

Shakspeaue. 

Helen,  I love  thee  ; by  my  life  I do : 

I swear  by  that,  which  1 will  lose  for  thee. 

To  prove  him  false,  that  says  I love  thee  not. 

SlIAKSPEARE 

Perdition  seize  my  soul,  but  I do  love  thee ! 

Shakspeare. 

On  your  hand,  that  pure  altar,  I vow, 

Though  I ’ve  look’d,  and  have  lik’d  and  have  left, — 
That  I never  have  loved  till  now ! 

M.  G.  Lewis. 

I know  thou  doom’st  me  to  despair 
Nor  wilt,  nor  canst  relieve  me  ; 

But,  ah,  Eliza,  hear  my  prayer, — 

For  pity’s  sake,  forgive  me ! 

Burns 

By  day  or  night,  in  weal  or  wo. 

This  heart,  no  longer  free. 

Must  bear  the  love  it  cannot  show, 

And,  silent,  ache  for  thee. 


Byron 


DEFIANCE. 


183 


I court  others  in  verse,  but  I love  thee  iu  prose, 

They  have  my  whimsies,  but  thou  hast  my  heart. 

Pkior 

Why  should  1 blush  to  own  I love  ? — 

'T  is  love  that  rules  the  realms  above ; 

Why  should  I blush  to  say  to  all, 

That  virtue  holds  my  heart  in  thrall  ? 

Henry  Kirk  Wi/ne, 


DEFIANCE 

I do  defy  him,  and  spit  at  him ; 

Call  him — a slanderous  cowurd,  and  a villain. 

Shakspeare. 

Must  I give  way  and  room  to  your  rash  choler  ? 

Shall  I be  frighted,  when  a madman  stares  ? 

Shakspeare 

Torture  thou  may’st,  but  thou  shall  ne’er  despise  me ; 

The  blood  will  follow  where  the  knife  is  driven  ; 

The  flesh  wih  quiver  where  the  pincers  tear; 

And  sighs  and  cries  by  nature  grow  on  pain : 

But  these  are  foreign  to  the  soul ; not  mine 
The  groans  tha  issue,  or  the  tears  that  fall ; 

They  disobey  me ; — on  the  rack  1 scorn  thee  ! 

Young. 

He  nalts,  and  turns  with  clenched  hand. 

And  shouts  of  loud  defiance  pours. 

And  shaKea  his  gauntlet  at  the  towers. 

Scott’s  Marinion 

Come  one,  come  all — this  rock  shall  fly 
From  its  firm  base  as  s^on  as  1. 


Scott’s  MarmL^n 


184 


DELAY  - rROCRAS'J'INATIOW. 


DELA  ' ■ — PROCRASTTNAT[ON. 

O,  niy  good  lord,  that  comfort  comes  too  late : 

Tis  like  a pardon  after  execution  ; 

’'Phat  gentle  physic,  given  in  time,  had  cur’d  me ; 

But  now  I ’m  past  all  comfort  here  but  prayers. 

SlIAKSPEAKR 

Your  gift  is  princely,  but  it  comes  too  late. 

And  falls  like  sunbeams  on  a blasted  blossom. 

SuCKLlNCr. 

Shun  delays,  they  breed  remorse  ; 

Take  thy  time,  while  time  is  lent  thee; 

Creeping  snails  have  \veakest  force  ; 

Fly  their  fault,  lest  thou  repent  thee. 

Good  is  best  when  soonest  wrought, 

Lingering  labours  come  to  nought. 

Southwell. 

Be  wise  to-day  : ’t  is  madness  to  defer ; 

Next  day  the  fatal  precedent  will  plead ; 

Thus  on  till  wisdom  is  push’d  out  of  life. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 

Procrastination  is  the  thief  of  time  : 

Year  after  year  it  steals,  till  all  are  fled, 

And  to  the  mercies  of  a moment  leaves 
The  vast  concerns  of  an  eternal  scene. 

Young’s  Night  Ttioughts 

Think  not  to-morrow  still  shall  be  your  care ; 

Alas!  to-morrow  like  to-day  wdil  fare. 

Reflect  that  yesterday’s  to-morrow ’s  o’er, — 

Thus  one  “ to-morrow,”  one  “ to-morrow^”  more, 

Have  seen  long  years  before  them  fade  away, 
nd  still  ap])ear  no  nearer  than  to-day. 

Gifford'n  PtTiieU$ 


DELICACY. 


185 


Oh ! how  many  deeds 
Of  deathl(iss  virtue,  and  immortal  crime, 

'Fhe  world  had  wanted,  had  the  actor  said 
I will  do  this  to-morrow ! 

Lord  John  Russes. l 


DELICACY. 

Like  the  lily, 

That  once  was  mistress  of  the  field,  and  flourish’d, 

I ’ll  hang  my  head,  and  perish. 

Shakspeare 

Early,  bright,  transient,  chaste  as  morning  dew, 

She  sparkled. 

Young’s  Night  Thought  a 
May  the  snowy  wings 
Of  innocence  and  love  protect  thee ! 

Akenside. 

Ah ! little  will  the  lip  reveal 
Of  all  the  burning  heart  may  feel. 

Miss  L.  E.  Landon. 

Her  eye  may  grow  dim,  and  her  cheek  may  grow  pale. 
But  tell  they  not  both  the  same  fond  tale? — 

Love’s  lights  have  fled  from  her  eye  and  her  cheek. 

To  burn  and  die  on  the  heart  which  they  seek. 

Miss  L,  E.  Landon. 

She  bore  herself 

So  gently,  that  the  lily  on  its  stalk 
Bends  not  so  easily  its  dewy  head. 

J.  G.  Percu.al. 

Sweet  beauty  sleeps  upon  thy  brow 
And  floats  before  my  eyes ; 

As  meek  and  pure  as  dov^es  art  thou. 

Or  beings  of  the  skies 


Robert  Morris 


186 


DESIGN  - INTENTION  - DESPAIR. 


1 dnre  not  think,  thou  lovely  maid, 

Tliy  soul-lit  beauty  e’er  shall  fade ; 

Sure,  life  and  love  must  stay  with  thee, 

Chain’d  by  thy  potent  witchery. 

Mrs.  Child 


DESIGN  — INTENTION. 

I do  believe  you  think  what  now  you  speak. 

But  what  we  do  determine  oft  w'e  break : 

Purpose  is  but  the  slave  to  memory, 

Of  violent  birth,  but  poor  validity ; 

Which  now,  like  fruits  unripe,  sticks  on  the  tree. 

But  fall,  unshaken,  when  they  mellow  be. 

Shakspeare. 

He  that  intends  well,  yet  deprives  himself 
Of  means  to  put  his  good  thoughts  into  deeds. 

Deceives  his  purpose  of  the  due  reward. 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 
4 When  any  great  designs  thou  dost  intend. 

Think  on  the  means,  the  manncT,  and  the  end. 

Denham. 

When  men’s  intents  are  wicked,  their  guilt  haunts  them. 
But  when  they’re  just,  they’re  arm’d,  and  nothing  daunts 
them. 

Middleton. 

Honest  designs 

Justly  resemble  our  devotions. 

Which  we  must  pay,  and  wait  for  the  reward. 

Sir  R.  Howard, 


DESPAIR. 

It  were  all  one. 

That  1 should  love  a bright  particular  star, 
And  think  to  wed  it. 


Shakspeare 


DESPAIR. 


187 


Canst  thou  not  minister  to  a mind  diseased  ; 

Pluck  from  the  memory  a rooted  sorrow ; 

Raze  out  the  written  tablets  of  the  brain; 

Cleanse  the  foul  bosom  of  that  perilous  stuff, 

Which  weighs  upon  the  heart? 

Shakspe/ire. 

Despai  r 

Gives  courage  to  the  weak.  Resolv’d  to  die, 

He  fea^s  no  more,  but  rushes  on  his  foes, 

And  deals  his  deaths  around. 

Somervile’s  Chast, 


Lean  abstinence,  pale  grief,  and  haggard  care. 
The  dire  attendants  of  forlorn  despair. 


Pattison. 


So  farewell,  hope,  and  with  hope  farewell  fear ; 

Farewell  remorse ; all  good  to  me  is  lost ; 

Evil,  be  thou  my  good  ! 

Milton’s  I aradise  Lost, 
My  loss  is  such  as  cannot  be  repair’d. 

And  to  the  wretched,  life  can  be  no  mercy. 


Dryden. 


Talk  not  of  comfort — ’t  is  for  lighter  ills  ; 

I will  indulge  my  sorrow,  and  give  way 
To  all  the  pangs  and  fury  of  despair. 

Addison’s  Cato 

But  desperate  is  their  doom  whom  doubt  has  driven 
Tc  censure  fate,  and  pious  hope  forego ; 

Like  yonder  blasted  boughs  by  lightning  riven. 

Perfection,  beauty,  life,  they  never  know, 

But  frown  on  all  who  pass,  a monument  of  woe. 

Beattie’s  Minstrei. 
Mine  after-life  ! what  is  mine  after-life  ? 

My  day  is  closed  ! the  gloom  of  night  is  come  ! 

A hopeless  darkness  settles  o’er  my  fate  ! 

Joanna  Baillib 


188 


DESPAIR. 


Alas’  the  breast  that  inly  bleeds, 

Has  nought  to  fear  from  outward  blow 
Who  falls  from  all  he  knows  of  bliss, 

Cares  little  into  what  abyss. 

Byron’s  Giaour. 

Go,  when  the  hunter’s  hand  hath  wrung 
From  forest  cave  her  shrieking  young, 

Ar.d  calm  the  lonely  lioness — 

But  soothe  not,  mock  not  my  distress ! 

Byron’s 

Despair  defies  even  despotism ; there  is 

That  in  my  heart  would  make  its  way  thro’  hosts 

With  le veil’d  spears. 

Byron’s  Two  Foscarl 
My  m.other  earth  ! 

And  thou,  fresh  breaking  day  ! and  you,  ye  mountains ! 
Why  are  ye  beautiful  1 I cannot  love  ye! 

And  thou,  the  bright  eye  of  the  universe. 

That  npen’st  over  all,  and  unto  all 

Art  a delight — thou  shin’s!  not  on  my  heart ! 

Byron’s  Manfred 

My  solitude  iS  solitude  no  more, 

But  peopled  with  the  furies ; I have  gnash’d 
My  teeth  in  darkness  till  returning  morn. 

Then  curs’d  myself  at  sunset  1 I have  pray’d 
For  madness  as  a blessing— ’t  is  denied  me  ! 

Byron’s  Manfred. 

They,  who  have  nothing  more  to  fear,  may  well 
Indulge  a smile  at  that  which  once  appall’d, 

As  children  at  discover’d  bugbears. 

Byron’s  Sa^danapabis. 
Hope  is  a willing  slave — despair  is  free. 

R.  Dawes 

One  long,  loud  shriek  swell’d  on  the  air, 

The  ihrilling  crv  of  dark  despair, 

And  all  was  sad  and  silent  there. 

Mrs.  C.  H.  W.  Estmu. 


DESl’IN  Y - FATE  - NECESSITY. 


189 


stands,  as  stands  the  stricken  deer 
Check’d  midway  in  the  fearful  chase, 

When  bursts  upon  his  eye  and  ear 
The  gaunt,  grey  robber,  baying  near 
Between  it  and  its  hiding-place — 

Wliile  still  behind,  with  yell  and  blow, 

Sweeps,  like  a storm,  the  coming  foe. 

J.  G.  WmTTiin. 

The  fond  illusions  I have  cherish’d — 

Anticipations  once  so  fair — 

Calmly  I hear  they  all  have  perish’d— 

But  ’tis  the  calmness  of  despair. 

J.  T.  Watson. 

¥7hat  next  ? I know  not,  do  not  care — 

Come  pain  or  pleasure,  weal  or  woe, — 

There ’s  nothing  which  I cannot  bear,  / 

Since  I have  borne  this  withering  blow. 

J T Watson. 


/ DESTINY  — FATE  — NECESSITY. 

Who,  then,  can  strive  with  strong  necessity, 

That  holds  the  world  in  his  still  changing  state  ? 

o o 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queen. 
What  fate  imposes,  men  must  needs  abide  ; 

It  boots  not  to  resist  both  wind  and  tide. 

Shakspeare. 

*T  is  necessity 

To  which  the  gods  must  yield  ; and  I obey, 

Till  I redeem  it  by  some  glorious  way. 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 

Alas  ! what  stay  is  there  in  human  state. 

Or  who  can  shun  inevitable  fate  ? 

The  doom  was  written,  the  decree  was  past, 

Ere  tlie  foundatioj^s  of  the  world  were  cast. 


T )rv  den 


DESTRUCTION  - RUIN 


Fatal  necessity  is  never  known, 

Until  it  strike ; and,  till  that  blow  be  come, 

Who  falls,  s by  false  visions  overthrown. 

Lord  Bkooki 

When  fear  admits  no  hope  of  safety,  then 
Necessity  makes  dastards  valiant  men. 

Merricx. 

Well,  well — the  world  must  turn  upon  its  axis. 

And  all  mankind  turn  with  it,  heads  or  tails, 

Ar*4  live  and  die,  make  love,  and  pay  our  taxes 
And,  as  the  veering  wind  shifts,  shift  our  sails. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

We  are  the  victims  of  its  iron  rule. 

The  warm  and  beating  human  heart  its  tool ; 

And  man,  immortal,  god-like,  but  its  fool. 

Miss  Landon. 

Fate  is  above  us  all ; 

We  struggle,  but  what  matters  our  endeavour? 

Our  doom  is  gone  beyond  our  own  recall ; 

May  we  deny  or  mitigate  it  ? — Never ! 

Miss  Landon 

While  warmer  souls  command,  nay,  make  their  fate. 

Thy  fate  made  thee,  and  forc’d  thee  to  be  great. 

Moore. 


DESTRUCTION — RUIN. 

See  .he  wide  waste  of  all-devouring  years ! 

How  Rome  her  own  sad  sepulchre  appears ! 

With  nodding  arches,  broken  temples  spread  ! 

The  very  tombs  r ow  vanish’d,  like  their  dead  ! 

Pope’s  Moral  Essays 

They  tore  away  some  weeds,  ’t  is  true. 

But  all  the  flowers  were  ravish’d  too.  • 

Moor* 


DETERMINATION -RESOLUTION.  &c. 


191 


High  towers,  fair  temples,  goodly  theatres, 

Strong  walls,  rich  porches,  princely  palaces. 

Fine  streets,  brave  houses,  sacred  sepulchres, 

Sure  gates,  sweet  gardens,  stately  galleries — 

All  these,  (Oh,  pity !)  now  are  turn’d  to  dust, 

And  overgrown  with  black  Oblivion’s  rust. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queen 
Their  sceptres  broken  and  their  swords  in  rust. 

Byron’s  Cliilde  Harold 
Where  her  high  steeples  whilom  used  to  stand, 

On  which  the  lordly  falcon  wont  to  tower. 

There  now  is  but  a heap  of  lime  and  sand. 

For  the  screech-owl  to  build  her  baleful  bower. 

Spenser’s  Ruins  of 


DETERMINATION  — RESOLUTION,  &c. 


Let  come  what  will,  I mean  to  bear  it  out. 

And  either  live  with  glorious  victory. 

Or  die  with  fame,  renown’d  for  chivalry. 

He  is  not  worthy  of  the  honey-comb. 

That  shuns  the  hive,  because  the  bees  have  stings. 

Shakspeare. 

^ Experience  teacheth  us 

That  resolution’s  a sole  help  at  need. 

Shakspea  rs 


Muse  not  that  I thus  suddenly  proceed  ; 

For  what  I will,  I will — and  there ’s  an  end. 

Shakspe  < RS. 


Although 

The  air  (A  Paradise  did  fan  the  house. 

And  angels  offic’d  all,  I will  be  gone. 

Shakspeare. 

I’ll  speak  to  it,  though  hell  itself  should  gape. 

And  bid  me  hold  my  peace. 


Shakspe  ARS. 


192 


D«!:TRACTI0N  - dinner  - DISAPPOlNTMEjrr. 


All  the  soul 

01  man  is  resolution,  which  expires 
Never,  from  valiant  men,  till  their  last  breath ; 
And  then  ’t  is  wi*h  it  like  a flame  extinguish’d 
F or  want  of  maner — it  does  not  die,  but 
Rather  ceases  to  live. 

Entice  the  sun 

From  his  ecliptic  line — he  shall  obey 
Your  beck,  and  wander  from  his  sphere,  ere  I 
From  my  resolves. 


Chatham 


BARi»K 


Men  make  resolves,  and  pass  into  decrees 
The  motions  of  the  mind  : with  how  much  ease, 
in  such  resolves,  doth  passion  make  a flaw. 

And  bring  to  nothing  what  was  rais’d  to  law  ! 

Churchill. 


DETRACTION.  — (See  Calumny.) 


DINNER.  — (See  Appetite.) 


DISAPPOINTMENT. 

My  May  of  life 

fs  fallen  in  the  sere,  the  yellow  leaf ; 

And  that  which  should  accompany  old  age. 

As  honour,  love,  obedience,  troops  of  friends, 

I must  not  look  to  have,  but,  in  their  stead. 

Curses,  not  loud,  but  deep,  mouth-honour,  breath, 

Which  the  poor  heart  would  fain  deny,  but  dare  not. 

Shaksplawjk. 

’I'hings  svv<*i*t  ♦o  taste  prove  in  digestion  sour. 


Shakspfakk 


DISAP!  JIINTMENT. 


193 


While  iii  he  dark  on  tliy  soft  hand  1 hung, 

And  heara  the  tempting  syren  in  thy  tongue, 

What  flamer,  what  darts,  what  anguish  I endur’d ! 

But  when  the  candle  enter’d,  I was  cur’d. 

From  Marti  AJL 

Impell’d  witn  steps  unceasing  to  pursue 

Some  fleeting  good,  that  mocks  me  with  the  view, 

That,  like  the  circle  bounding  earth  and  skies, 

Allures  from  far,  yet,  as  I follow,  flies. 

Goldsmith’s  Travelltr, 

Those  high-built  hopes  that  crush  us  by  their  falJ. 

Campbelu 

Successful  love  may  sate  itself  away. 

The  wretched  are  the  faithful ; ’t  is  their  fate. 

To  have  all  feelings,  save  the  one,  decay. 

And  every  passion  into  one  dilate. 

Byron’s  Lament  of  Tasso, 
Thus  ever  fade  my  fairy  dreams  of  bliss. 

Byron’s  Corsair, 

I loved  her  well ; I would  have  loved  her  better. 

Had  love  been  met  with  love : as ’t  is,  I leave  her 
To  brighter  destinies,  if  so  she  deems  them. 

Byron’s  Heaven  and  Earth. 
O ! ever  thus  from  childhood’s  hour, 

I ’ve  seen  my  fondest  hopes  decay  ; 

1 never  lov’d  a tree  or  flower, 

But  ’twas  the  first  to  fadd  away 

Moore’s  Lalla  Rookh, 

4 Oh  ! that  a dream  so  sweet,  so  long  enjoy’d, 

Should  be  so  sadly,  cruelly  destroy’d ! 

Moore’?  Lalla  IlookA 
The  hopes  my  soul  had  cherish’d 
Have  wither’d  one  by  one. 

And,  tho’  life’s  flowers  have  perish’d. 

I ’m  left  to  linger  on ! 


13 


194 


DISAPPOII^*  TMENT 


Such  gather’d  dust,  when  they  had  hop’d  to  see 
I’he  richest  fruits ; the  buds  that  promis’d  fair 
Were  early  blasted,  or  but  grew  to  be 
A mockery — a harvest  of  despair. 

W.  C.  LonuK 

I will  love  her  no  more — it  is  heathenish  thus 
To  bow  to  an  idol  that  bends  not  to  us ; 

Which  heeds  not,  which  hears  not,  which  recks  not  tor  aughl 
That  the  worship  of  years  to  its  altar  has  brought. 

C.  F.  Hoffman. 

Hope,  cheated  too  often  when  life ’s  in  its  spring, 

From  the  bosom  that  nurs’d  it  for  ever  takes  wing ; 

And  memory  comes,  as  its  promises  fade, 

To  brood  o’er  the  havoc  that  passion  has  made. 

C.  F.  Hoffman. 

I knew  not  how  I lov’d  thee — no  ! 

I knew  it  not  till  all  was  o’er — 

Until  thy  lip  had  told  me  so — 

Had  told  me  I must  love  no  more ! 

C.  F.  Hoffman. 

The  conflict  is  over — the  struggle  is  past, 

I have  look’d — I have  lov’d— I have  worshipp’d  my  last; 
And  now  back  to  the  world,  and  let  fate  do  her  worst 
On  the  heart  that  for  thee  such  devotion  hath  nurs’d. 

To  thee  its  best  feelings  were  trusted  away. 

And  life  hath  hereafter  not  one  to  betray. 

C.  F.  Hoffman. 

Ay,  such  is  man’s  philosophy  when  woman  is  untrue. 

The  loss  of  one  but  teaches  him  to  make  another  do. 

Oh  ! I am  sick  of  this  dark  world. 

My  heart,  my  best  affections  blighted. 

My  sails  of  joy  for  ever  furl’d. 

My  dawning  hopes  so  soon  benighted. 

J FI.  McIlvan* 


DISAPPOINTMENT. 


195 


The  blighted  jirospects  of  an  anxious  life. 

Charles  Sprague 

We  have  cherish’d  fair  hopes,  we  have  plotted  brave  schemes 

We  have  liv’d  till  we  find  them  illusive  as  dreams ; 

Wealth  has  melted  like  snow,  that  we  grasp  in  our  hand. 

And  the  steps  we  have  climb’d  have  departed  like  sand. 

Epes  Sargent 

Farewell ! my  life  may  wear  a careless  smile, 

My  words  may  breathe  the  very  soul  of  lightness ; 

But  the  touch’d  heart  must  deeply  feel  the  while, 

That  life  hath  lost  a portion  of  its  brightness ; 

And  woman’s  love  shall  never  be  a chain. 

To  bind  me  to  its  nothingness  again. 

Epes  Sargent. 

The  best  enjoyment  is  half  disappointment 

To  that  W3  mean,  or  would  have  in  this  world. 

Bailey’s  Festus, 

These  were  our  hopes,  but  all  our  hopes  are  fled. 

Not  every  flower  that  blossoms 
Diffuses  sweets  around  ; 

Not  every  scene  hope  gilds  with  light 
Will  fail;  be  found. 

Mrs.  S.  J.  Hale. 

But  it  is  past — bright,  transient  gleam 
Of  sunshine  in  life’s  dreary  waste ; 

Even  as  some  half-remember’d  dream 
Of  happier  times, — ’t  is  past — ’t  is  past ! 

J.  T.  Watson. 

As  poison  will  sometimes  cure  poison. 

As  a nail  other  nails  will  expel. 

This  love  you  need  not  make  a noise  on. 

For  auUher  may  do  just  as  well. 

J.  T.  Watson. 


DISCONTENT,  — (See  Contentment.) 


196 


OISCRETIOIS  - DISEASE,  Ato. 


DISCRETION.  — (See  Cautiom.) 


DISEASE  — HEALTH  — PHYSICIAN,  &c. 

There  never  yet  was  a philosopher, 

Who  could  endure  the  toothache  patiently. 

Shakspearr. 

By  medicines  life  may  be  prolong’d,  yet  death 
Will  seize  the  Doctor  too. 

Shakspeare. 

About  his  shelves, 

A beggarly  account  of  empty  boxes, 

Green  earthen  pots,  bladders,  and  musty  seeds. 

Remnants  of  packthread,  and  old  cakes  of  roses, 

Were  thinly  scatter’d  to  make  up  a show. 

Shakspeare. 

Out,  ye  impostors  ! 

duack -salving,  cheating  mountebanks — your  skill 
Is  to  make  sound  men  sick,  and  sick  men  kill. 

Massinger 

They  are 

Made  of  all  terms  and  shreds ; no  less  beliers 
Of  great  men’s  favouijs,  than  their  own  vile  med’cines, 
Which  they  will  utter  upon  monstrous  oaths : 

Selling  that  drug  for  two  pence,  ere  they  part, 

Which  they  have  valued  at  twelve  crowns  before. 

Ben  Jons.  « 

For  men  are  brought  to  worse  distresses. 

By  taking  physic,  than  diseases  ; 

And  therefore  commonly  recover. 

As  soon  as  doctojs  give  them  over. 

Butler’s  Hudibran, 


DISEASE ..  HEALT  H - PHYSICIAN. 


197 


Wounds  by  the  wider  wounds  are  heal’d, 

And  poisons  by  themselves  expell’d. 

Butler’s  HmlU>ras 

All  maladies, 

Of  ghastly  spasm,  or  racking  torture,  qualms 
Of  heartsick  agony  ; all  feverish  kinds ; 

Convulsions,  epilepsies,  fierce  catarrhs  ; 

Intestine  stone  and  ulcers  : cholic  pangs. 

Demoniac  phrensy,  moping  melancholy. 

And  moonstruck  madness;  pining  atrophy. 

Marasmus,  and  wide-wasting  pestilence: 

Dropsies,  and  asthmas,  and  joint-racking  rheums. 

Milton. 

Th’  ingredients  of  health  and  long  life  are 
Great  temperance,  open  air, 

Easy  labour,  little  care. 

Sir  Philip  Sidney. 

The  surest  road  to  health,  say  what  they  will. 

Is  never  to  suppose  we  shall  be  ill ; — 

Most  of  those  evils  we  poor  mortals  know. 

From  doctors  and  imagination  flow. 

Churchill. 

Nor  love,  nor  honour,  wealth,  nor  power, 

Can  give  the  heart  a cheerful  hour. 

When  health  is  lost.  Be  timely  wise  ; 

With  health  all  taste  of  pleasure  flies. 

Gay’s  Fabler. 

Next  Gout  appears,  with  limping  pace. 

Which  often  shifts  from  place  to  place  : 

From  head  to  foot  how  swift  he  flies. 

And  ev’ry  joint  and  sinew  plies  ; 

Still  working,  when  he  seems  supprest, 

A most  tenacious,  stubborn  guest. 


(jay’s  Fabled, 


198 


DISEASE  - HEALTH  - PHYSICI  AN. 


That  dire  disease,  whose  ruthless  power 
Withers  the  beauty’s  transient  flower. 

Goldsmith. 

Fever  and  pain,  and  pale,  consumpiive  care. 

Goldsmith. 

The  power  of  words,  and  soothing  sounds,  appease 
Thi  raging  pain,  and  lessen  the  disease. 

Francis’  Horace 

And  then  the  sigh,  he  would  suppress. 

Of  fainting  nature’s  feebleness. 

More  slowly  drawn,  grew  less  and  less. 

Byron’s  Prisoner  of  Chill  on, 
A cheek,  whose  bloom 
Was  as  a mockery  of  the  tomb. 

Whose  tints  as  gently  sunk  away 
As  a departing  rainbow’s  ray. 

Byron’s  Prisoner  of  Chillon. 
Sickness  sits  cavern’d  in  his  hollow  eye. 

Byron. 

Oh  ! there  is  sweetness  in  the  mountain  air, 

And  life,  which  bloated  ease  may  never  hope  to  share. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 
This  is  the  way  physicians  mend  or  end  us, 

Secundem  artem : — but  although  we  sneer 
In  health — when  sick,  we  call  them  to  attend  us, 

Without  the  least  propensity  to  jeer. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

Hers  was  a beauty  that  made  sad  the  eye. 

Bright,  but  fast  fading,  like  a twilight  sky: 

The  shape  so  finely,  delicately  frail, 

As  f)rm’d  for  climes  unrufiled  by  a gale ; 

The  lustrous  eye,  through  which  look’d  forth  the  soul. 
Bright  and  more  brightly  as  it  near’d  the  goal ; 

The  waning  beauty,  the  funereal  charms. 

With  V hich  Death  steals  his  bride  into  his  arms. 

The  N^w  Jimon^ 


DISflONESTY  - ROGUES  - THIEVES. 


199 


AloDg  her  cheek  the  deep’ning  red 
Told  where  the  fev’rish  hectic  fed ; 

And  yet  each  token  gave 
To  the  mild  beauty  of  her  face, 

A newer  and  a dearer  grace, 

Unwarning  of  the  grave. 

i.  G.  WHiT  riF.ji 


DISHONESTY  — ROGUliS  - THIEVES. 

Ay,  sir  ; to  be  honest,  as  this  world  goes, 

Is  to  be  one  pick’d  out  of  ten  thousand. 

Shakspeare. 

Thieves  for  their  robbery  have  authority, 

When  jtidges  steal  themselves. 

Shakspeare, 

I ’ll  example  you  with  thievery  : 

The  sun ’s  a thief,  and  wuh  his  great  attraction 
Robs  the  vast  sea ; the  moun ’s  an  arrant  thief. 

And  her  pale  face  she  snatches  from  the  sun; 

The  sea’s  a thief,  whose  liquid  surge  resolves 
The  moon  into  salt  tears  ; the  earth ’s  a thief. 

That  feeds  and  breeds  by  a composture  stolen 
From  general  excrement ; each  thing ’s  a thief. 

Shakspeare. 

Nay,  take  my  life  and  all,  pardon  not  that ; 

You  take  my  house,  when  you  do  take  the  prop 
That  doth  sustain  my  house : you  take  my  life, 

Wh  .i.  you  do  take  the  means  whereby  1 live. 

Shakspeare 

i^ands,  mortgag’d,  may  return,  and  more  esteem’d ; 

But  honesty  once  pawn’d  is  ne’er  redeem’d. 

Middleton 

The  man  who  pauses  in  his  honesty 
Wants  little  of  the  villain. 

Mari  \ n 


200 


DISPLEASURE. 


RogL,*s  as  they  were,  themselves  they  would  not  roh — 
Vice  in  the  heart  some  virtue  always  leaves — 

And,  though  they’d  thank  the  public  for  a job, 

I’hey,  ’niongst  themselves,  were  honour  able  thieves  ! 

J.  T.  Watson 


DISPLEASURE 


If  she  do  frown,  ’tis  no.  in  hate  of  you— 

But  rather  to  beget  more  love  in  you. 

If  she  do  chide,  ’t  is  not  to  have  you  gone 

SllAKSPEAR*. 

O * why  rebuke  you  him,  who  loves  you  so  ? 

Lay  breath  so  bitter  on  your  bitter  foe. 

Shakspe  ire. 


Go,  speak  not  to  me ; even  now  begone  ! 
No  cloud 

Of  anger  shall  remain,  but  peace  assur’d. 
And  reconcilement. 


Shakspe  ^re. 


\ 

Milton. 


Do  not  blast  my  springing  hopes. 

That  thy  kind  hand  has  planted  in  my  soul. 

Rowe. 

’T  is  then  the  mind,  from  bondage  free, 

And  all  its  former  weakness  o’er. 

Asserts  its  native  dignity. 

And  scorns  what  folly  priz’d  before. 

Cartwrioht. 


And  to  be  wroth  with  one  we  love. 

Doth  work  like  madness  in  the  brain. 

Coleridge’s  Christ abd, 

O where  are  the  bright-beaming  glances  1 miss  1 


DISPOSITION  - DISSENSION  - DISTANCE. 


201 


Farewell ! the  tie  is  broken — thou, 

With  all  thou  wert  to  me,  hast  parted ! 

N.  P.  Willis 

Cast  my  heart’s  gold  into  the  furnace  flame, 

And,  if  it  come  not  thence  refin’d  and  pure, 

I ’ll  be  a bankrupt  to  thy  hope,  and  heaven 
Shall  shut  Its  gates  on  me  ! 

Mrs.  L.  H.  Sigourney 


DISPOSITION.  — (See  Character.) 


DISSENSION. 

Alas  ! how  light  a cause  may  move 
Dissension,  between  hearts  that  love  ! 

Moore 

A something  light  as  air  — a look  — 

A word  unkind,  or  wrongly  taken  — 

Oh  ! love,  that  tempest  never  shook, 

A breath,  a touch  like  this,  hath  shaken. 

MoORg 

Though  light  cause  may  move 
Dissensions  between  hearts  that  love, 

Is  it  not  true,  a cause  as  light 
May  sever’d  hearts  again  unite. 

In  truer,  kindlier  harmony 
Than  felt  before. 


DISTANCE. 

T is  distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view, 

And  clothes  the  mountain  in  its  azure  hue. 

Campbell’s  Pkamres  of 


202 


DOMESTIC  AFFAIRS.  HOME. 


If  earth's  whole  orb,  by  some  due  distanc’d  »^ye, 

Were  seen  at  once,  her  tow’ring  Alps  would  sink, 

And  le veil’d  Atlas  leave  an  even  sphere. 

Young’s  JSiglU  Thoughts 


DOMESTIC  AFFAIRS  — HOME 
Home  is  the  resort 

Of  love,  of  joy,  of  peace,  and  plenty,  where. 

Supporting  and  supported,  polish’d  friends. 

And  dear  relations  mingle  into  bliss. 

Thomson’s  ^Seasoiu 

Domestic  happiness  ! thou  only  bliss 
Of  Paradise,  that  has  surviv’d  the  fall ! 

’Fhough  few  now  taste  thee  unimpair’d  and  free, 

Or,  tasting,  long  enjoy  thee  ; too  infirm, 

Or  too  incautious,  to  preserve  thy  sweets 
Unmix’d  with  drops  of  bitter. 

Cowper’s  Task, 

His  warm  but  simple  home,  where  he  enjoys. 

With  her  who  shares  his  pleasure  and  his  heart. 

Sweet  converse. 

Cowper’s  Task. 

Man,  through  all  ages  of  revolving  time. 

Unchanging  man,  in  every  varying  clime, 

Deems  his  own  land  of  every  land  the  pride, 

Belov’d  by  heaven  o’er  all  the  world  beside; 

His  home  the  spot  of  earth  supremely  blest, 

A dearer,  sweeter  spot,  than  all  the  rest. 

J.  IMoN  TGOMERY. 

Around,  in  sympathetic  mirth, 

Its  tricks  the  kitten  tries. 

The  cricket  chirrups  on  the  hearth. 

The  crackling  ^faggot  dies. 


Goldsmith. 


DOMESTIC  AFFAIRS  - HOME. 


203 


With  secn.'t  course  which  no  loud  storms  annoy, 

Glides  the  smooth  current  of  domestic  joy. 

Goli/Smith’s  Travdlet 
Thou  spot  of  earth,  w^here  from  my  bosom 
The  first  weak  tones  of  nature  rose, 

Where  first  I cropp’d  the  stainless  blossom 
Of  pleasure,  yet  unmix’d  with  woes  ; 

Where,  with  my  new-born  powers  delighted, 

1 tripp’d  beneath  a mother’s  hand — 

In  thee  the  quenchless  flame  was  lighted, 

That  sparkles  for  my  native  land. 

Walker — From  the  Danish, 
’T  is  sweet  to  hear  the  watch-dog’s  honest  bark 

Bay  deep-mouth’d  welcome  as  we  draw  near  home ; 

T is  sweet  to  know  there  is  an  eye  will  mark 
Our  coming,  and  look  brighter  when  we  come. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

He  enter’d  in  his  house — his  home  no  more. 

For  without  hearts  there  is  no  home — and  felt 
The  solitude  of  passing  his  own  door 
Without  a welcome. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 
The  parted  bosom  clings  to  wonted  home, 

If  aught,  that ’s  kindred,  cheer  the  welcome  hearth. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 
I’ve  wander’d  on  thro’  many  a clime  where  flowers  ol 
beauty  grew. 

Where  all  was  blissful  to  the  heart  and  lovely  to  the  view— 
1 ’ve  seen  them  in  their  twilight  pride,  and  in  their  dress  of 
morn. 

But  none  appear’d  so  sweet  to  me  as  the  spot  w'here  I was 
born. 


’Mid  pleasures  and  palaces  tho’  we  may  roam. 

Be  it  ever  so  humble,  there ’s  ni  place  like  home. 

J.  H.  Payne- 


204 


DOUBT  - DRAMA  - DREAMS  - SLEEP. 


How  dear  to  this  heart  are  the  scenes  of  my  childhood, 
When  fond  recoRection  recalJs  them  to  view  : — 

The  orchard,  the  meadow,  the  deep-tangled  wildwood, 

And  every  lov’d  spot  which  my  infancy  knew. 

Samuel  Woodworth. 
A neat  little  cottage  in  front  of  a grove. 

Where  in  youth  they  first  gave  their  young  hearts  up  to  love. 
Was  the  solace  of  age,  and  to  them  doubly  dear. 

As  it  call’d  up  the  past  with  a smile  or  a tear. 

And  oh,  the  atmosphere  of  home  ! how  bright 
It  floats  around  us  when  w^e  sit  together, 

Under  a bower  of  vine  in  summer  weather. 

Or  round  the  hearth-stone  on  a winter’s  night ! 

Park  Benjamin* 

Who,  that  in  distant  lands  has  chanc’d  to  roam, 

N^’er  thrill’d  with  pleasure  at  the  name  of  home? 

J.  T.  Watson. 


DOUBT.  — (See  Credulity.) 


D J A M A.  — (See  Actors.) 


DREAMS  — SLEEP. 

If  I may  trust  the  flatt’ring  eye  of  sleep. 

My  dreams  presage  some  joyful  news  to-morrow. 

Shakspeare. 

Dn^ams  are  but  children  of  an  idle  brain. 

Begot  of  nolhing  but  vain  fantasy. 

Shakspe/re. 

1’hus  have  I had  thee,  as  a dream  will  flatter. 

In  sleep  n kir'g,  but,  waking,  no  such  matter, 

Sm  akspeare. 


DREAMS -SLEEP. 


205 


Come  sleep,  O sleep  ! the  certain  knot  of  peace, 

The  baiting-place  of  wit,  the  balm  of  woe  ; 

I'he  poor  man’s  wealth,  the  prisoner’s  release, 

The  impartial  judge  between  the  high  and  low. 

Sir  Philip  Sidney 

Dreams  are  but  interludes,  which  fancy  makes  ; 

When  monarch  reason  sleeps,  this  mimic  wakes ; 

And  many  monstrous  forms  in  sleep  we  see, 

Which  neither  were,  nor  are,  nor  e’er  can  be. 

Dryden. 

Tir’d  nature’s  sweet  restorer,  balmy  sleep  ! 

He,  like  the  world,  his  ready  visit  pays. 

Where  fortune  smiles — the  wretched  he  forsakes. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 
When  tir’d  with  vain  rotations  of  the  day, 

Sleep  winds  us  up  for  the  succeeding  dawn. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 
Kind  sleep  affords 

The  only  boon  the  wretched  mind  can  feel ; 

A momentary  respite  from  despair. 

Murphy. 

Oh ! thou  best  comforter  of  the  sad  heart, 

When  fortune’s  spite  assails— come,  gentle  sleep, 

The  weary  mourner  soothe  ! For  well  the  art 
Thou  know’st  in  soft  forgetfulness  to  steep 
The  eyes  which  sorrow  taught  to  watch  and  weep. 

Mrs.  Tighe’s  Psyche. 

Sleep  is  no  servant  of  the  will; 

It  has  caprices  of  its  own  ; 

When  courted  most  it  lingers  still, 

When  most  pursued ’t  is  swiftly  gone. 

Bowring — From  the  Spanish 
To  each  and  all,  a fair  good-night, 

And  rosy  dreams,  and  slumbers  light ! 


Scott 


206 


DREAMS -SLEEP 


Well  may  dreams  present  us  fictions, 

Since  our  waking  moments  teem 
With  such  fanciful  convictions, 

As  make  life  itself  a dream. 

Campbi  li 

I’ho’  ’t  IS  all  but  a dream  at  the  best, 

And  still  when  happiest  soonest  o’er, 

Yet  e’en  in  a dream  to  be  blest. 

Is  so  sweet  that  I ask  for  no  more. 

Mook  e 

Agtiin  in  that  accustom’d  couch  must  creep. 

Where  joy  subsides,  and  sorrow  sighs  to  sleep, 

And  man,  o’erlabour’d  with  his  being’s  strife, 

Shrinks  to  that  sweet  forgetfulness  of  life : — 

’^I’here  lie  love’s  feverish  hopes,  and  cunning’s  guiie, 
flate’s  working  brain,  and  lull’d  ambition’s  wile ; 

O’er  each  vain  eye  oblivion’s  pinions  wave. 

And  quench’d  existence  crouches  in  a grave. 

Bv Ron’s  Lara. 

My  slumbers  — if  I slumber  — are  not  sleep. 

But  a continuance  of  enduring  thought, 

Which  then  I can  resist  not. 

Byron’s  Manfred, 

I would  recall  a vision  which  T dream’d, 

Perchance  in  sleep,  for  in  itself  a thought, 

A slu  mb’ ring  thought,  is  capable  of  years. 

And  curdles  a long  life  into  one  hour.  * 

Byron’s  Dream 

And  dreams  in  their  development  have  breath, 

And  tears,  and  torture,  and  the  touch  of  joy ; 

They  leave  a weight  upon  our  waking  thoughts, 

They  take  a weight  from  off  our  waking  toils ; 

They  do  divide  our  being ; they  become 
A portion  of  ourselves  as  of  our  time. 

And  look  like  heralds  of  eternity. 


Byron’s  Dream 


DRESS. 


207 


1'he  sweet  siesta  of  a summer’s  day 

Byron’s  Island. 

Alas  ! that  dreams  are  only  dreams  ! 

That  fancy  cannot  give 
A lasting  beauty  to  those  forms, 

Which  scarce  a moment  live ! 

Ruvits  Dawes. 

But  ah!  ’tis  gone, ’t is  gone,  and  never 
Mine  such  waking  bliss  can  be ; 

Oh  ! I would  sleep,  would  sleep  for  ever. 

Could  I thus  but  dream  of  thee  ! 

Fkisuie. 

Where  his  thoughts  on  the  pinions  of  fancy  shall  roam. 
And  in  slumber  revisit  his  love  and  his  home — 

When  the  eyes  of  affection  with  tenderness  gleam ; — 

Oh  ! who  would  awake  from  so  blissful  a dream  ? 

W.  Kelly. 

When  sleep’s  calm  wing  is  on  my  brow, 

And  dreams  of  peace  my  spirit  lull. 

Before  me,  like  a misty  star. 

That  form  floats  dim  and  beautiful. 

G.  D.  Prentice. 

Strange  .s  the  power  of  dreams  ! who  has  not  felt, 

W'hen  in  the  morning  light  such  visions  melt. 

How  the  veil’d  soul,  tho’  struggling  to  be  free. 

Rul’d  by  that  deep,  unfathom’d  mystery. 

Wakes,  haunted  by  the  thoughts  of  good  or  ill. 

Whose  shading  influence  pursues  us  still  ? 

Mrs.  Norton’s  Dreani. 


DRESS.  — (See  Apparel.; 


208 


DRINKING- WINE.  &.c. 


DR.NKING  — WINE  — TEMPERANCE,  &c. 

A surfeit  of  the  sweetest  thincfs 

o 

The  deepest  loathing  to  the  stomach  brings. 

Sll.\KSPF.ARI 

Oh,  that  men  should  put  an  enemy  in 
Their  mouths,  to  steal  away  their  brains  ! that  we 
Should,  with  joy,  pleasance,  revel  and  applause, 
Transform  ourselves  to  beasts  ! 

Shakspeark 

They  were  red-hot  with  drinking  ; 

So  full  of  valour,  that  they  smote  the  air 
For  breathing  in  their  faces  ; beat  the  ground 
For  kissing  of  their  feet. 

Shakspeare 

Though  1 look  old,  yet  I am  strong  and  lusty  ; 

For,  in  my  youth,  I never  did  apply 
Hot  and  rebellious  liquors  to  my  blood  ; 

Nor  did  1,  with  unbashful  forehead,  woo 
The  means  of  weakness  and  debility  ; 

Therefore  my  age  is  as  a lusty  winter,  / 

Frosty  but  kindly. 

Shakspeare 

In  what  thou  eat’st  and  drinkest  seek  from  thence 
Due  nourishment,  not  gluttonous  delight ; 

So  thou  may’st  live  till,  like  ripe  fruit,  thou  drop 
Into  thy  mother’s  lap,  or  be  with  ease 
Gather’d,  not  harshly  pluck’d,  for  death  mature. 

Milton 

For  swinish  gluttony 

Ne’er  looKs  to  heaven  amidst  her  gorgeous  feast, 

But  with  bf  sotted,  base  ingratitude 
Crams,  and  bl  isphemes  his  feeder 


Milton’ « iJom  in 


DRINKING- WINE  &c. 


209 


If  a 1 the  world 

Should,  in  a pet  of  Temperance,  feed  on  pulse. 

Drink  the  clear  stream,  and  nothing  wear  but  frieze, 

Th’  All-Oiver  would  be  unthank’d,  would  be  unprais’d, 
Not  half  his  riches  known,  and  yet  despis’d ; 

And  we  should  serve  him  as  a grudging  master. 

And  a penurious  niggard  of  his  wealth. 

Milton’s  Co.nas. 

* Nature,  good  cateress. 

Means  her  provision  only  to  the  good, 

That  live  according  to  her  sober  laws, 

And  holy  dictates  of  spare  Temperance. 

Milton’s  Coiiiiis 
The  modest  maid 

But  coyly  sips,  and  blushing  drinks,  abash’d- 

SoMERVILE 

He,  who  the  rules  of  temperance  neglects, 

^ From  a good  cause  may  produce  vile  effects. 

Tuke. 

If  men  would  shun  swoln  fortune’s  ruinous  blasts. 

Let  them  use  temperance : nothing  violent  lasts. 

W.  SritilCMEY. 

The  joy  which  wine  can  give,  like  smoky  fires, 

Obscures  their  sight,  whose  fancy  it  inspires. 

.Aaron  Hill 

’T  is  to  thy  rules,  O Temperance ! that  we  owe 
All  pleasures  that  from  health  and  strength  can  flow. 

Mary  Chanb^ee. 

Earth’s  coarsest  bread,  the  gardeffs  humblest  roots. 

And  scarce  the  summer’s  luxury  of  fruits. 

His  short  repast  in  humbleness  supply 
With  all  a hermit’s  bo?rd  would  scarce  deny; 

But,  while  he  shuns  the  grosser  joys  of  sense. 

Bis  mind  seems  nourish’d  by  that  abstmence. 

Byron’s  Corsaiu 
14 


210 


OK  inking;  - wink,  &c. 


Man,  bf;ing  reasonable,  must  fret  drunk: 

'^i'he  best  of  life  is  but  intoxication  ; 

Glory,  the  ^rape,  love,  gold, — in  these  are  sunk 
The  hopes  of  all  men,  and  of  every  nation. 

Byron’s  Doji  Jiiun 

lie  spent  his  days  in  riot  most  uncouth,  ^ 

And  vex’d  with  mirth  the  drowsy  ear  of  night. 

Byron’s  Chrlde  IlarM, 
Which  cheers  the  sad,  revives  the  old,  inspires 
The  young,  makes  Weariness  forget  his  toil, 

And  Fear  her  danger;  opens  a new  world, 

When  this,  the  present,  palls. 

Byron’s  Sardanctpahis. 
Fill  the  bright  goblet,  spread  the  festive  board. 

Summon  the  gay,  the  noble,  and  the  fair; 

Thro’  the  loud  hall,  in  joyous  concert  pour’d. 

Let  mirth  and  music  sound  the  dirge  of  Care. 

Scott, 

The  gen’rous  wine  brmgs  joy  divine. 

And  heauty  charms  our  soul ; 

I,  while  on  earth,  will  still  with  mirth, 

Drink  — beauty  and  the  bowl  1 

E.  McKf.v. 

What  cannot  wine  perform  ? It  brings  to  light 
The  secret  soul ; it  bids  the  coward  hght  ; 

Gives  being  to  our  hopes,  and  from  our  hearts 
Drives  out  dull  sorrow,  and  inspires  new  arts  ; 

Even  in  th’  oppressive  grasp  of  poverty. 

It  can  enlarge,  and  bid  the  soul  be  free? 

Francis’  Hornet. 

Could  ev’ry  drunkard,  ere  he  sits  to  dine. 

Feel  in  his  head  the  dizzy  fumes  of  wine, 

No  more  would  Bacchus  chain  the  willing  soui, 

But  loathing  horroi  shun  the  poison’d  bowl.  . 

Merivale’s  Clcarchi4S, 


DUTY -EATING. 


211 


Thov  sparkling  bowl ! thou  sparkling  bowl ! 

Though  lips  of  bards  thy  brim  may  press, 

Apid  eyes  of  beauty  o’er  thee  roll, 

And  song  and  dance  thy  power  confess — 

I will  not  touch  thee  ; for  there  clings 
A scorpion  v,  thy  side  that  stings. 

John  Pierpom 

Inspiring  John  Barleycorn, 

What  dangers  dost  thou  make  us  scorn  ! 

’Tis  when  the  fancy-stirring  bowl 
Doth  wake  its  world  of  pleasure, 

That  glowing  fancies  gild  my  soul, 

And  life ’s  an  endless  treasure. 


Ah  ! Brandy,  Brandy  ! bane  of  life. 
Spring  of  tumult,  source  of  strife, 

Could  I but  half  thy  curses  tell. 

The  wise  would  wish  thee  safe  in  hell ! 


Blame  not  the  bowl- — the  fruitful  bowl. 

Whence  wit  and  mirth  and  music  spring. 

And  amber  drops  Elysian  roll, 

J’o  bathe  young  Love’s  delighted  wing. 

C.  F.  tloFFMAJf 


DUTY.—  (See  Conscience.) 


EATING.  — (See  Appetite.) 


212 


ECHO-  ECSTASY  - TRANSPORT. 


ECHO. 

And  ever-wakefu.  Echo  here  doth  dwell, 

The  nymph  of  sportive  mockery,  that  still 
Hides  behind  every  rock,  in  every  dell. 

And  softly  glides,  unseen,  from  hill  to  hill; 

No  sound  doth  rise  but  mimic  it  she  will — 

The  sturgeon’s  splash  repeating  from  the  shoie, 

Aping  the  boy’s  voice  with  a voice  as  shrill. 

The  bird’s  low  warble,  and  the  thunder’s  roar, 

• Always  she  watches  there,  each  murmur  telling  o’er. 

Theodore  S.  Fat? 


ECSTASY  — TRANSPORT. 

My  spirits,  as  in  a dream,  are  all  bound  up. 

Shakspeare. 

O’ercome  with  wonder,  and  oppress’d  with  joy  : — 

This  vast  profusion  of  extreme  delight. 

Rising  at  once,  and  bursting  from  despair, 

Defies  the  aid  of  words,  and  mocks  description. 

Lillo. 

For  joy  like  this,  death  were  a cheap  exchange. 

^scHYLus’  Agamemnon. 
Tune  your  harps. 

Ye  angels,  to  that  sound ; and  thou,  my  heart, 

Make  room  to  entertain  my  Al  wing  joy  ! 

Dryden 

She  b’ds  me  hope ! and,  in  that  charming  word, 

Has  peace  and  transport  to  my  soul  restor’d. 

Lord  Lyttieton. 

My  jo3%  my  best  be  lov’d,  my  only  wish  ! 

How  shall  I speak  the  transport  of  my  soul! 


Addison. 


EDUCATION  - WISDOM  &c, 


213 


What  sweet  delirium  o’er  his  bosom  stole  ! 

Beattie’s  Minstrel 
No  word  was  spoken,  all  was  feeling — 

3’lie  silent  transport  of  the  heart. 

Le\t  Frisbie 

( )ne  hour  of  such  bliss  is  a life  ere  it  closes — 

*Tis  one  drop  of  fragrance  from  thousands  of  roses. 

P.  M.  Wetmore. 


E DUG ATION  — WISDOM  — WIT,  &c 

Why  did  my  parents  send  me  to  the  schools, 

That  I with  knowledge  might  enrich  my  mind, 

Since  the  desire  to  learn  first  made  men  fools, 

And  d'd  corrupt  the  root  of  all  mankind? 

Spenser's  Fairy  Queen 

Will  is  the  prince,  and  Wit  the  counsellor. 

Which  do  for  common  good  ir  council  sit. 

And,  when  Wit  is  resolv’d^  Wui  lends  her  power. 

To  execute  what  is  desir’d  by  Wit. 

Davies’  Immortality  of  the  SouL 

Learning  b)  study  must  be  won  ; 

’T  was  ne’er  entail’d  from  sire  to  son. 

Gay’s  Fables. 

For  what  is  truth  and  knowledge,  but  a kind 
Of  wantonness  and  luxury  of  the  mind  ; 

A greediness  and  gluttony  of  the  brain, 

That  longs  to  eat  forbidden  fruit  again ; 

And  grows  more  desperate,  like  the  worst  diseases. 

Upon  the  nobler  part,  the  mmd,  it  seizes  ? 

Buti.er, 

Besides  ’tis  known  he  could  speak  Greek 
As  nalurally  as  pigs  squeak. 


Betler’s  lludibrns 


214 


EDUCATION- WISDOM.  A'C. 


He  was  in  logic  a great  critic, 

Profoundly  skill’d  in  analytic ; 

He  could  distinguish  and  divide 
A hair  ’twixt  south  and  south-west  side. 

Butler’s  Hudibrat 

Learning,  that  cobweb  of  the  brain, 

Profdne,  erroneous,  and  vain  : 

A trade  of  knowledge,  as  replete 
As  others  are  with  fraud  and  cheat  ’ 

An  art  to  encumber  gifts  and  wit,  < 

And  render  both  for  nothing  fit. 

Butler’s  Hudihrns 

The  clouds  may  drop  down  titles  and  estates. 

Wealth  may  seek  us — but  wisdom  must  be  sought. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 
For  just  experience  tells  in  every  soil. 

That  those  who  think  must  govern  those  who  toil. 

Goldsmith’s  Traveller 

Mix’d  reason  with  pleasure,  and  wisdom  with  mirth. 

Goldsmith’s  Retaliation, 
Superior  beings,  when  of  late  they  saw 
A mortal  man  unfold  ail  nature’s  law. 

Admir’d  such  wisdom  in  an  earthly  shape. 

And  show’d  a Newton,  as  we  show  an  ape. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man, 
— Mingles  with  the  friendly  bowl 
The  feast  of  reason,  and  the  flow  of  soul. 

Pope 

liove  seldom  haunts  the  breast  where  learning  hes. 

Pope 

A little  learning  is  a dangerous  thing ; 

Drink  deep,  or  taste  not,  the  Pierian  spring; 

For  shallow  draughts  intoxicate  the  brain, 

And  drinking  deeply  sobers  us  again. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism. 


EDI  CATlOxX  - WISDOM,  &c. 


215 


True  wit  is  nature  to  advantage  drest, 

That  oft  was  thought,  but  ne’er  so  well  expresi, 

Something  whose  truth,  convinc’d  at  sight,  we  find, 

That  gives  us  back  the  image  of  our  mind. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticisrr^ 
What  is  it  to  be  wise  ? 

’Tis  but  to  know  how  little  can  be  known, 

To  see  all  others’  faults,  and  feel  our  own. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Alojv. 
Nature  and  nature’s  laws  lay  hid  in  night ; 

God  said,  let  Newton  b«  ! and  all  was  light. 

Pope 

O’er  nature’s  laws  God  cast  the  veil  of  night. 

Out  blaz’d  a Newton’s  soul — and  all  was  light. 

Aaron  Hill. 

His  very  name  a title-page,  and  next 
His  life  a commentary  on  the  text. 

WOODBRIDGE. 

He  learn ’d  the  arts  of  riding,  fencing,  gunnery, 

And  how  to  scale  a fortress  or — a nunnery. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

The  languages— -especially  the  dead. 

The  sciences — and  most  of  all  the  abstruse, 

The  arts — at  least  all  such  as  could  be  said 
To  be  the  most  remote  from  common  use. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

And  stoic  Franklin’s  energetic  shade, 

Rob’d  in  the  lightning  which  his  hand  allay’d. 

Byron’s  Age  of  Bronze 
Sorrow  is  knowledge  ; they,  who  know  the  most, 

Must  mourn  the  deepest  o’er  the  fatal  truth. 

The  tree  of  knowledge  is  not  that  of  life. 

Byron’s  Manfred 

For  Plato’s  love  sublime. 

And  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Stagyrite, 

Enrich’d  and  beautified  his  studious  mind. 

M'ordswortii — From  the  Italian, 


EDI 'CATION  - WISDOM,  Aa 


For  any  man,  wilh  half  an  ey»*, 

Wliat  stands  before  him  may  es})y ' 

But  optics  sharp  it  needs,  I ween. 

To  see  what  is  not  to  be  seem 

TnuMmiLL  s 

On  every  point,  in  earnest  or  in  jest, 

Flis  judgment,  and  his  prudence,  and  his  wit, 

Were  deem’d  the  very  touchstone,  and  the  test 
Of  what  was  proper,  graceful,  just,  and  fit. 

J.  H.  Fre>ij5. 

The  wish  to  know— the  endless  thirst. 

Which  even  by  quenchinor  is  awak’d. 

And  which  becomes  or  bless'd  or  curs’d, 

As  is  the  fount  whereat ’t  is  slak’d. 

IVIoore’s  Loves  of  the 
Extremes  of  fortune  are  true  wisdom’s  test. 

And  he ’s  of  men  most  wise,  who  bears  them  best. 

Cumberland’s  Philemon, 
Lur’d  by  its  charms,  he  sits  and  learns  to  trace 
The  midnight  wanderings  of  the  orbs  of  space ; 

Boldly  he  knocks  at  wisdom’s  inmost  gate. 

With  nature  counsels,  and  communes  with  fate. 

Charles  Spragus, 

She  had  read 

Her  father’s  well-fill’d  library  with  profit. 

And  could  talk  charmingly  ; then  she  could  sing 
And  play  too,  passably,  and  dance  with  spirit ; 

Yet  she  was  knowing  in  all  needle-work, 

And  shone  in  dairy  and  in  kitchen  too, 

As  in  the  parlour. 

J N.  BARXFlit 

Youth  it  instructs,  old  age  delights. 

Adorns  prosperity,  and  when 
<Jf  adverse  fate  v\e  feel  the  blights, 

’T  w ill  comfort  and  solace  us  then. 


J.  T.  Watson. 


EGOTISM  - SELF. 


2] 


EGOTISM  — SELF 

'Tif.  with  our  judgments  as  our  watches;  none 
Are  just  alike,  yet  each  believes  his  own. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  ( riticLi)n 
To  observations  which  ourselves  we  make, 

We  grow  more  partial  for  the  observer’s  sake. 

Pope’s  Moral  Essays 

Whate’er  the  passion,  knowledge,  fame,  or  pelf. 

No  one  will  change  his  neighbour  with  himself ; 

The  learn’d  is  happy  nature  to  explore. 

The  fool  is  happy  that  he  knows  no  more ; 

The  rich  is  happy  in  the  plenty  given. 

The  poor  contents  him  with  the  care  of  heaven. 

Pope’s  Moral  Essays. 
The  selfish  heart  deserves  the  pain  it  feels, 

More  generous  sorrow,  while  it  sinks,  exalts ; 

And  conscious  virtue  mitigates  the  pang. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 
All  men  think  all  men  mortal  but  themselves. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 
^ In  other  men  we  faults  can  spy, 

And  blame  the  mote  that  dims  their  eye ; 

Each  little  speck  and  blemish  find  ; 

To  our  own  stronger  errors  blind. 

Gay’s  Fables. 

Fcr  none  more  likes  to  hear  himself  converse. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 

What  exile  from  himself  can  flee  ? 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
Oh  wad  some  power  the  giftie  gie  us. 

To  see  oursels  as  ithers  see  us  ’ 


Btuin» 


218 


li.LJt!iGA>  L. 


Self  is  the  medium  least  refin’d  of  all, 

Through  which  opinion's  searching  beams  can  fall : 

And,  passing  there,  the  clearest,  steadiest  ray, 

Will  tinge  its  light,  and  turn  its  line  astray. 

Moore 

For,  as  his  own  bright  image  he  survey’d, 

He  fell  in  love  with  the  fantastic  shade  ; 

Ami  o’er  the  fair  resemblance  hung  un mov’d. 

Nor  knew,  fond  youth,  it  was  himself  he  lov’d. 

From  Ovid. 

How  often,  in  this  cold  and  bitter  world. 

Is  the  warm  heart  thrown  back  upon  itself ! 

Cold,  careless  are  we  of  another’s  grief ; 

We  wrap  ourselves  in  sullen  selfishness. 

Miss  L.  E.  Landon. 


ELEGANCE. 

The  feeling  heart,  simplicity  of  life, 

And  elegance,  and  taste. 

Thomson. 

Trifles  themselves  are  elegant  in  him. 

Pope. 

To  these  resistless  grace  impart. 

That  look  of  sweetness,  form’d  to  please, 

That  elegance,  devoid  of  art. 

That  dignity  that ’s  lost  in  ease. 

Cartwright 

With  all  the  wonders  of  external  grace, 

A person  finely  turn’d,  a mould,  a face. 

Where  (union  rare,)  expression’s  lively  force, 

With  beauty’s  softest  magic,  holds  discourse. 


Churchill. 


ELOQUENCE - ORATOR 


218 


ELOQUENCE  — ORATOR 


And  when  she  spake 

Sweet  ^^ords,  like  dropping  honey,  she  did  shed ; 

And  ’twixt  th(3  pearls  and  rubies  softly  break 
A silver  sound,  that  heavenly  music  seem’d  to  make. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queeix. 
When  he  speaks. 

The  air,  a charter’d  libertine,  is  still. 

And  the  mute  wonder  lurketh  in  men’s  ears. 

To  steal  his  sweet  and  honey’d  sentences. 

Shakspeare. 

And  aged  ears  play  truant  at  his  tales. 

And  younger  hearings  are  quite  ravished, 

So  sweet  and  voluble  is  his  discourse. 

Shakspeare. 

Power  above  powers  ! O heavenly  eloquence  ! 

That,  with  the  strong  rein  of  commanding  words, 

Dost  manage,  guide,  and  master  th’  eminence 
Of  men’s  affections,  more  than  all  their  swords ! 

Daniel. 


His  tongue 

Dropp’d  manna,  and  could  make  the  worst  appear 
The  better  reason,  to  perplex  and  dash 
Maturest  counsels. 

Milton's  Paradise  LosU 


Men  are  more  eloquent  than  women  made, 

But  women  are  more  powerful  to  persuade. 

Randolph 

Oh  ! speak  that  again  ! 

Sweet  as  the  syren’s  tongue  those  accents  fall, 

And  charm  me  to  my  ruin. 

Southern 

Your  words  arc  like  the  notes  of  dying  swans. 

Too  sweet  to  last. 

Drydfn 


220 


ELOQUENCE  - ORATOR. 


As  I lisU'n’fl  to  thee, 

The  happy  f.ours  pass’d  by  ns  un perceiv’d. 

So  was  rriy  s)u]  fix’d  to  the  soft  enchantment. 

Rows 

[lis  words  of  learned  length  and  thundering  sound, 
Amaz’d  the  gazing  rustics  rang’d  around  ; 

And  still  they  gaz’d,  and  still  the  wonder  grew. 

That  one  small  head  should  carry  all  he  knew. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  ViUa^t 


Here  rills  of  oily  eloquence  in  soft 
Meanders  lubricate  the  course  they  take. 

COWPER. 


— The  grand  debate 
The  popular  harangue,  the  tart  repjy. 

The  logic,  and  the  wisdom,  and  the  wit, 

And  the  loud  laugh — I long  to  know  them  all. 

COWFER. 

For  rhetoric,  he  could  not  ope 

His  mouth,  but  out  there  flew  a trope. 

Butler’s  Hudibras 


My  listening  powers 

Were  aw’d,  and  every  thought  in  silence  hung, 

And  wondering  expectation. 

Akenside. 


Thy  words  had  such  a melting  flow, 

And  spoke  of  truth  so  sweetly  well, 

They  dropp’d  like  heaven’s  serenest  snow. 

And  all  was  brightness  where  they  fell ! 

M0‘  KE, 

He  scratch’d  his  ear,  the  iniallible  resource 
To  which  embarrass’d  people  have  recourse. 

Byron’s  Don  Jimfi 


Henry,  the  forest-oorn  Demosthenes, 

Whose  thunder  shook  the  Philip  of  the  seas. 

Byron’s  of  Bromr.. 


t:LOQUENCE -WISDOM,  .Vc. 


‘221 


His  talic  IS  the  sweet  extract  of  all  speech. 

And  holds  mine  ear  in  blissful  slavery. 

Bailey’s  Ftstm. 

Thus  stor’d  with  intellectual  riches, 

Skill’d  was  our  squire  in  making  speeches. 

Where  strength  of  brains  united  centres 
With  strength  of  lungs  surpassing  Stentor’s. 

Trumbull’s  McFihgaL 
Oh  ! as  the  bee  upon  the  flower,  I hang 
Upon  the  honey  of  thy  eloquent  tongue. 

Bulwer’s  Lady  of  Lyons* 
His  words  seem’d  oracles 

Ti’hat  pierc’d  their  bosoms;  and  each  man  would  turn 
And  gaze  ^in  wonder  on  his  neighbour’s  face. 

That  with  the  like  dumb  wonder  answer’d  him. 

. . . . You  could  have  heard 

The  beating  of  your  pulses  while  he  spoke. 

George  Croly, 

Eloquence,  that  charms  and  burns. 

Startles,  soothes,  and  wins,  by  turns. 

J.  H.  Clinch. 

Ihere ’s  a charm  in  deliv’ry,  a magical  art, 

That  thrills,  like  a kiss,  from  the  lip  to  the  heart; 

’T  IS  the  glance — the  expression — the  well-chosen  word — 
By  whose  magic  the  depths  of  the  spirit  are  stirr’d — 

The  smile — the  mute  gesture — the  soul-stirring  pause — 
The  eye’s  sweet  expression,  that  melts  while  it  awes — 
The  lip’s  soft  persuasion — its  musical  tone  : 

Oh  ! such  were  the  charms  of  that  eloquent  one  ! 

Mrs.  a.  B.  VVelbv. 

Now  with  a giant’s  might 

He  heaves  the  ponderous  thought. 

Now  pours  the  storm  of  eloquence 
Wit!  scadi  ng  lightning  fraught. 


Vi cksh  u rg  I / 'h  ig , 


EMBRACE -KISS. 


I 


He  ceas’d  ; the  solemn  silence  now  was  broke, 

Which  reign’d  triumphant  while  the  hero  spoke ; 

And  then  was  heard,  amidst  the  general  pause, 

One  simultaneous  burst  of  loud  applause. 

J.  T.  Watp^ob* 


EMBRACE  — KISS. 


Teach  not  thy  lip  such  scorn  ; for  it  was  made 
For  kissing,  lady,  not  for  such  contempt. 

Shakspeare. 

Kiss  the  tear  from  her  lip,  you  ’ll  find  the  rose 
The  sweeter  for  the  dew. 

Webster. 

These  poor,  half  kisses  kill  me  quite ; 

Was  ever  man  so  serv’d? 

Amidst  an  ocean  of  delight. 

For  pleasure  to  be  starv’d  ! 

Drayton. 

Sweet  were  his  kisses  on  my  balmy  lips 
As  are  the  breezes  breath’d  amidst  the  groves 
Of  rip’ning  spices  on  the  height  of  day. 

Bern. 

The  fragrant  infancy  of  op’ning  flowers 
Flow’d  to  my  sen.'^'es  in  that  melting  kiss  ! 

Southern. 


I felt,  the  while,  a pleasing  kind  of  smart ; 

The  kiss  went  tingling  to  my  very  heart. 

When  it  was  gone,  the  sense  of  it  did  stay, 

The  sweetness  ding’d  upon  my  lips  all  day. 

Like  drops  of  honey  loth  to  fall  away. 

Dry  DEN 

The  kiss  you  take  is  paid  by  l nat  you  give ; 

The  joy  is  mutual,  and  I’m  sti  1 ir  debt. 

liORD  LaNSDOWN. 


EMBRACE -KISS. 


22 


He  scarce  afforded  one  kind  parting  word, 

But  went  away  so  cold,  the  kiss  he  gave  mo 
Seem’d  the  forc’d  compliment  of  sated  love. 

Otwa% 

Her  .ps,  so  rich  in  blisses,  , 

Sweet  petitioners  for  kisses  ! 

Pouting  nest  of  bland  persuasion, 

Ripely  suing  love’s  invasion. 

Moore’s  Jinacrmn. 

[ ne’er  on  that  lip  for  a moment  have  gaz’d, 

But  a thousand  temptations  beset  me. 

And  I’ve  thought,  as  the  dear  little  rubies  you’ve  rais’d, 
How  delicious  ’t  would  be— if  you ’d  let  me  ! 

Moore. 

A long,  long  kiss — a kiss  of  youth  and  love. 

And  beauty,  all  concentrating,  like  rays 
Into  one  focus  kindling  from  above. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 

Kiss  rhymes  to  bliss  in  fact,  as  well  as  verse. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

I love  the  sex,  and  sometimes  would  reverse 
The  tyrant’s  wish  “that  mankind  only  had 
One  neck,  which  he  with  one  fell  stroke  might  pierce 
My  wish  is  quite  as  wide,  but  not  as  bad ; — . . . . 

That  womankind  had  but  one  rosy  mouth. 

To  kiss  them  all  at  once  from  North  to  South. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan< 


She  rose — she  sprung — she  clung  to  his  embrace 
Till  his  heart  heav’d  beneath  her  hidden  face ; 

He  dar’d  not  raise  to  his  that  deep  blue  eye. 

Which,  downcast,  droop’d  in  tearless  agony. 

Her  long  fair  hair  lay  floating  o’er  her  arms 
In  all  the  wildness  of  dishevell’d  charms. 

Scarce  beat  that  bosom  where  his  image  dweii, 

So  full — that  feeling  seem’d  almost  unfelt. 

Byron’s  Cuts  air. 


224 


embrace -KISS. 


And  Paulo  by  degrees  gently  embrac’d 
With  one  permitted  arm,  her  lovely  waist; 

And  both  thei  cheeks,  like  peaches  on  a tree, 

Loan’d  with  a touch  together  thrillingly. 

Leigh  FIunt 

— The  twofold  bliss, 

fhe  promis’d  wedding,  and  the  present  kiss. 

Joel  Baiilow 

The  roses  on  your  cheeks  were  never  made 
To  bless  the  eye  alone,  and  then  to  fade ; 

Nor  had  the  cherries  on  your  lips  their  being, 

To  please  no  other  sense  than  that  of  seeing. 

— And  her  white  arms  hung 
On  his  lov’d  neck,  as  tho’  in  that  one  clasp 
The  whole  wide  world  of  joy  was  in  her  grasp. 

Mrs.  C.  H.  W.  Eslino, 

It  was  enough — each  wild  and  throbbing  heart 
Was  closely  beating  ’gainst  its  dearer  part. 

Mrs.  C.  H.  W.  Esllng 
And  with  a velvet  lip  print  on  his  brow 
Such  language  as  the  tongue  hath  never  spoken. 

Mrs.  Sigourney 

Balmy  seal  of  soft  affection, 

Tenderest  pledge  of  future  bliss. 

Dearest  tie  of  young  connexion, 

Love’s  first  snow'-drop,  virgin  kiss! 

As  o’er  her  drooping  form  he  softly  bent. 

The  pressure  of  his  lip  was  on  her  brow, 

V4iile  to  her  cheek  the  warm  blood  came  and  went. 
Varying  each  moment  with  her  rich  thought’s  flow, 
While  tell-tale  dimples  in  her  cheek  a[)|)earing, 

H old  that  a svveet  love-thought  her  heart  was  stirring. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Wei  by 


EMIGRATION. 


225 


I know  thou  dost  love  me — ay  ! frown  if  itioii  wilt. 

And  curl  that  beautiful  lip, 

Which  I never  can  gaze  on  without  the  guilt 
Of  burning  its  d"3w  to  sip! 

C.  F.  Hoffman? 


EMIGRATION. 

Down  where  yon  anch’ring  vessel  spreads  the  sail, 

That,  idly  waiting,  flaps  with  every  gale. 

Downward  they  move,  a melancholy  band, 

Pass  from  the  shore,  and  darken  all  the  strand. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  Tillage 
Good  heaven  ! what  sorrows  gloom’d  that  parting  day, 
That  call’d  them  from  their  native  walks  away  1 
When  the  poor  exiles,  every  pleasure  past. 

Hung  round  the  bowers,  and  fondly  look’d  their  last, 

And  took  a long  farewell,  and  wish’d  in  vain 
For  seats  like  those  beyond  the  western  main ; 

And,  shudd’ring  still  to  face  the  distant  deep. 

Return’d  and  wept,  and  still  return’d  to  weep. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  VHlage 
Behold  the  duteous  son,  the  sire  decay’d. 

The  modest  matron,  and  the  blushing  maid. 

Forc’d  from  their  homes,  a melancholy  train, 

To  traverse  climes  beyond  the  western  main. 

Goldsmith’s  Traveller 
Slow  night  drew  on. 

And  round  the  rude  hut  of  the  emigrant 
The  wrathful  spirit  of  the  rising  storm 
Spake  bitter  things.  His  weary  children  slept, 

And  he,  with  head  declin’d,  sat,  list’ning  long 
'To  the  swoln  waters  of  the  Illinois, 

Dashing  agains^  their  shores. 


15 


Mrs.  L.  H.  Sicjournp? 


226 


EMULATION -ENEMY  -HATUED,  ia 


Let  us  depart ! the  universal  sun 
Confines  not  to  one  land  his  blessed  beams ; 

Nor  is  man  rooted,  like  a tree,  whose  seed 
The  winds  on  some  ungen ial  soil  have  cast, 

There,  where  he  cannot  prosper. 

Southey’s  Madt^c. 

With  all  that’s  ours,  together  let  us  rise. 

Seek  brighter  plains,  and  more  indulgent  skies; 

Where  fair  Ohio  rolls  his  amber  tide, 

And  nature  blossoms  in  her  virgin  pride ; 

Where  all  that  Beauty’s  hand  can  form  to  please. 

Shall  crown  the  toils  of  war  with  rural  ease. 

Dav^id  Humph  keys* 


emulation.  — (See  Ambition.) 


ENEMY  — HATRED  — MALICE. 

For  never  can  true  reconcilement  grow 

^"here  wounds  of  deadly  hate  have  pierc’d  so  deep. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost, 

He,  who  would  free  from  malice  pass  his  days. 

Must  live  obscure,  and  never  merit  praise. 

Gay’s  Epistles. 

Lands,  intersected  by  a narrow  frith, 

Abhor  each  other.  Mountains,  interpos’d, 

Make  enemies  of  nations,  which  had  else 
Like  kindred  drops  been  mingled  irto  one. 

COWPER 

Oflend  her,  and  she  knows  not  to  forgive ; 

Oblige  her,  and  she’ll  hate  you  while  you  five 

Pope 


ENEMY  - HATRED  - MALICE 


227 


A fetaile,  a ghastly,  withering  smile, 

Convulsive  o’er  her  features  play’d. 

Mrs.  Holford’s  Margaret  of  Anjou 
Oh,  that  we  were  on  the  dark  wave  together, 

With  but  one  plank  between  us  and  destruction, 

That  I might  grasp  him  in  these  desperate  arms, 

And  plunge  with  him  amid  the  weltering  ^"ilows. 

And  view  him  gasp  for  life  ! 

Maturin’s  Bertraux, 

Fear’d,  shunn’d,  belied,  ere  youth  had  lost  her  force. 

He  hated  men  too  much  to  feel  remorse. 

And  thought  the  vice  of  wrath  a sacred  call; 

To  pay  the  injuries  of  some  on  all. 

Byron’s  Corsair. 

There  was  a laughing  Devil  in  his  sneer. 

That  caus’d  emotions  both  of  rage  and  fear ; 

And  where  his  frown  of  hatred  darkly  fell, 

Hope  withering  fled,  and  Mercy  sigh’d  farewell ! 

Byron’s  Corsair. 

There  is  no  passion 
More  spectral  or  fantastical  than  Hate  ; 

Not  even  its  opp’site.  Love,  so  peoples  air 
With  phantoms,  as  this  madness  of  the  heart. 

Byron’s  Two  Foscan. 
If  a grasp  of  yours 

Would  raise  us  from  the  gulf  wherein  we  ’re  plung’d, 

Nc  hand  of  ours  would  stretch  itself  to  meet  it. 

Byron’s  Two  Foscnri. 

They ’d  have  him  live,  because  he  fears  not  death. 

Byron’s  Two  Foscari 
They  did  not  know  how  hate  can  burn 
In  hearts  once  chang’d  from  soft  to  stern, 

Nor  all  the  false  and  fatal  zeal 
The  convert  of  revenge  can  feel. 

Byron’s  Siege  of  Corinth 


228 


ENGAGEMENT, 


Ah  ! fondly  youthful  hearts  can  press, 

To  seize  and  share  the  dear  caress ; 

But  love  itself  could  never  pant 
For  all  that  beauty  sighs  to  grant, 

With  half  the  fervour  hate  bestow? 

Upon  the  last  embrace  of  foes  ! 

Bvron’s  Giaour 

Now  hatred  is  by  far  the  longest  pleasure ; 

Men  love  in  haste,  but  they  detest  at  leisure. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 


ENG  AGEMENT. 

Won  by  the  charm 
Of  goodness  irresistible,  and  all 
In  sweet  confusion  lost,  she  blush’d  assent. 

Thomson’s  Lavinia 

Twas  thy  high  purity  of  soul. 

Thy  thought-revealing  eye. 

That  plac’d  me,  spell-bound,  at  your  feet. 

Sweet  wand’rer  from  the  sky ! 

W.  G.  Clark, 

Then  take  my  flower,  and  let  its  leaves 
Beside  thy  heart  be  cherish’d  near — 

While  thy  confiding  heart  receives 

The  thoughts  it  whispers  to  thine  ear. 

The  Token — 1830. 

Twas  then  the  blush  sufllis’d  her  cheek. 

Which  told  what  words  could  never  speak  ; — , . . 

The  answer’s  written  deeply  now 
On  'his  w9.rni  cheek,  and  glowing  brow. 

Lucretia  Maria  Davidson, 


ENJOYMENT,  &,c. 


229 


ENJOYMENT  — HAPPINESS  — PROSPERITY. 

I^rosperity  is  the  very  bond  of  love, 

Whose  fresh  complexion,  and  whose  heart’  together, 
Affliction  alters. 

Shakspearr 

’T  is  not  to  any  rank  confin’d, 

But  dwells  in  every  honest  mind ; 

Be  justice  then  your  sole  pursuit; 

Plant  virtue,  and  content ’s  the  fruit. 

Gay’s  fables. 

Consider  man  in  every  sphere, 

Then  tell  me  is  your  lot  severe 
’T  is  murmur,  discontent,  distrust, 

That  makes  you  wretched:  God  is  just: 

We’re  born  a restless,  needy  crew; 

Show  me  a happier  man  than  you. 

Gay’s  Fables 

Luxuriant  joy. 

And  pleasure  in  excess,  sparkling,  exult 
On  every  brow,  and  revel  unrestrain’d. 

Somervile’s  Chase. 

How  beat  our  hearts,  big  with  tumultuous  joy  1 

Somervile’s  Chase. 

But  such  a sacred  and  homefelt  delight. 

Such  sober  certainty  of  waking  bliss, 

I never  felt  till  now. 

Milton 

Whate’er  the  motive,  pleasure  is  the  mark : 

For  her  the  black  assassin  draws  his  sword  ; 

For  her  dark  statesmen  trim  their  midnight  lamp; 

For  her  ^he  saint  abstains  ; the  miser  starves  ; 

The  stoic  proud,  for  pleasure,  pleasure  scorns ; 

For  her  afflictioi.'s  daughters  grief  indulge. 

And  find,  or  hope,  a luxury  in  tears , — 

For  her,  guilt,  shame,  toil,  danger,  we  defy. 

YoriNo’s  Night  Thoughit 


230 


ENTOYMENT, 


The  spider’s  most  attenuated  web 
Is  cord — is  cable,  to  man’s  tender  tie 
Of  earthly  bliss ; it  breaks  at  every  breeze. 

• Young’s  Night  Thought  % 

What  thirg  so  good  which  not  some  harm  may  bring  ? 
Even  to  be  happy  is  a dangerous  thing. 

Lord  Step  line 

They  live  too  long  who  happiness  outlive; 

For  life  and  death  are  things  indiflerent ; 

Each  to  be  chose,  as  either  brings  content. 

Dryui:n 

If  solid  happiness  we  prize, 

Within  our  breast  this  jewel  lies, 

And  they  are  fools  who  roam ; 

The  world  has  nothing  to  bestow ; 

From  our  own  selves  our  joys  must  how, 

And  that  dear  hut — our  home. 

Cotton 

A perpetual  feast  of  nectar’d  sweets. 

Where  no  crude  surfeit  reigns. 

Cowper’s  Task 

He  that  holds  fast  the  golden  mean. 

And  lives  contentedly  between 
The  little  and  the  great. 

Feels  not  the  wants  that  pinch  the  poor. 

Nor  plagues  that  haunts  the  rich  man’s  door. 

Embittering  all  his  state. 

Cowper’s  Horace, 

Pleasures,  or  wrong  or  rightly  understood. 

Our  greatest  evil,  or  our  greatest  good. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 
Who  that  define  it,  say  they  more  or  less 
Than  this,  tha*  happiness  is  happiness  ? 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man, 

Know  then  this  truth,  (enough  for  man  to  know,) 

Virtue  alone  is  happiness  below. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 


ENJOYMENT- HAPPINESS  &c. 


231 


Condition,  circumstance  is  not  the  thing — 

Bliss  is  the  same  in  subject  Dr  in  king ; 

In  who  oUain  defence,  or  r .10  defend. 

In  him  who  is,  or  him  who  finds,  a friend. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  May, 
For  the  wild  bliss  of  nature  needs  alloy, 

And  fear  and  sorrow  fan  the  fires  of  joy. 

Campbell 

I cannot  think  of  sorrow  now ; and  doubt 

II  e’er  I felt  it — ’t  is  so  dazzled  from 
My  memory,  by  this  oblivious  transport. 

Byron’s  Werner^ 

There  is  no  sterner  moralist  than  pleasure. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

Love — fame — ambition — avarice — ’t  is  the  same. 

For  all  are  meteors  with  a different  name. 

^ Byron’s  Childe  Harold 

Am  I already  mad  ? 

And  does  delirium  utter  such  sweet  words 
Into  a dreamer’s  ear  ? 

Bulwer’s  Lady  of  Lyons, 
Oh  ! happy  pair,  to  every  blessing  born  I 

For  you  may  life’s  calm  stream  unruffled  run  ; 

For  you  its  roses  bloom  without  a thorn. 

And  brisfht  as  morning  shine  its  evening  sun  ! 

R.  T.  Paine. 

And  may  the  stream  of  thy  maturing  life 
For  ever  flow,  in  blissful  sunlight,  through 
A fairy  scene  with  gladsome  beauty  rife. 

As  ever  greeted  the  enraptur’d  view ! 

A.  W.  Nonef. 

The  rapture  dwelling  within  my  breast. 

And  fondly  telling  its  fears  to  rest. 

Comes  o’er  me,  wearing  its  charmed  chain. 

No  vestige  learning  of  sorrow’s  chain. 


232 


ENJOYMENT- HAPPINESS, 


Too  late  I find  how  madly  vain  our  toil 
[n  search  of  happiness  on  mortal  soil; 

The  gilded  phantom  w€  so  dearly  prize, 

A moment  glitters,  then  for  ever  flies. 

The  highest  hills  arc  miles  below  the  sky, 

And  so  far  is  the  lightest  heart  below 
True  happiness. 

Bailey's 

My  life  has  been  like  summer  skies 
When  they  are  fair  to  view ; 

But  there  never  yet  were  hearts  or  skies, 

Clouds  might  not  wander  through. 

Mrs.  L.  P.  Smith. 

Pleasure ’s  the  only  noble  end, 

To  which  all  human  powers  should  tend; 

And  virtue  gives  her  heavenly  lore, 

But  to  make  pleasure  please  us  more. 

Moore 

Gone — like  a meteor,  that  o’er  head 
Suddenly  shines,  and  ere  we ’ve  said 
“ Look  ! look,  how  beautiful !” — ’t  is  fled  ! 

Moore’s  Loves  of  the  An^eh 

How  deep,  how  thorough-felt  the  glow 
Of  rapture,  kindling  out  of  wo  1 

How  exquisite  one  single  drop  < 

Of  bliss,  that,  sparkling  to  the  top  - 
Of  misery’s  cup  1 — how  keenly  quaff’d. 

Though  deatn  must  follow  in  the  draught. 

Moore’s  iMtta  ftookh, 

For  she  hath  liv’d  with  heart  and  soul  alive 
To  all  that  makes  life  beautiful  and  fair; 

Sweet  thoughts,  like  honey  bees,  have  made  their  hive 
Of  her  soft  bosom  cell,  and  cluster  there. 

Mrs.  a.  R.  Wvlby 


ENTERPRISE  - ENTHUSIASM. 


200 


There  are  some  hours  that  pass  so  soon, 

Our  spel  1-touch’ d hearts  scarce  know  they  end, 

Mrs.  a.  B.  Welbv 

May  thy  soul  with  pleasure  shine, 

Lasting  as  the  gloom  of  mine  ! 

Charles  Woi  fe 

Ah  Pauline ! who  can  gaze  upon  thee  now 

And  watch  thy  cheek  all  beaming  with  delight, 

Nor  grieve  to  think  that  thou  so  soon  shah  know 
Despair,  and  grief,  and  sorrow’s  withering  blight ! 

J.  T.  Watson. 

May  friendship  open  unto  you 

The  path  of  peace  and  holy  love ; 

May  life  continual  joys  renew ; 

May  hope  not  too  deceptive  prove ; — 

May  sweet  contentment  round  you  tlirow 
Such  bliss  as  may  be  found  below ! 

J.  T.  Watsoji. 


E N T E R P R I S E.  — (See  Activity.) 


ENTHUSIASM  — ZEAL. 

No  searea  conscience  is  so  fell 
As  that  which  has  been  burnt  with  zeal ; 

For  Christian  charity’s  as  well 
A great  impediment  to  zeal, 

As  zeal  a pestilent  disease 
To  Christ'an  charity  and  peace. 

Bttlkr, 

Zeal  and  duty  are  not  slow ; 

But  on 'occasion’s  forelock  watchful  wait. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Reg(  i.ifiL 


234 


ENVY  - EQUALITY. 


His  zea. 

Non 3 seconded,  as  out  of  reason  judg’d, 

Or  singular  and  rash. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Regained 
No  wild  enthusiast  ever  yet  could  rest. 

Till  half  mankind  were  like  himself  possess’d. 

COWPER. 

On  such  a theme ’t  were  impious  to  be  calm ; 

Passion  is  reason,  transport,  temper,  here ! 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 
For  virtue’s  self  may  too  much  zeal  be  had  : 

The  worst  of  madmen  is  a saint  run  mad. 

Pope 


— With  all  the  zeal 
Which  young  and  fiery  converts  feel. 

Within  whose  heated  bosoms  throngs 
The  memory  of  a thousand  wrongs. 

Byron’s  Siege  of  Corinth 
And  rash  enthusiasm,  in  good  society, 

Were  nothing  but  a moral  inebriety. 

Byron’s  Don  Juaru 


But  faith,  fanatic  faith,  once  wedded  fast 
To  some  dear  falsehood,  hugs  it  to  the  last. 

Moore’s  Lalla  Rookh. 


ENVY,  — (See  Calumny.) 


EQUALITY  — SUPERIORITY, 

Consider,  man  ; weigh  well  thy  frame. 

The  king,  the  bi^ggar,  are  the  same  ; 

Dust  form’d  lis  all.  Each  breathes  his  day, 
Tnen  sinks  into  his  native  clay. 


Gay’s  Fabte$. 


ERROR. 


235 


Ask  of  thy  mother  earth,  why  oaks  are  made 
Taller  or  stronger  than  the  weeds  the’*  shade  , 

Or,  ask  of  yonder  argent  fields  above, 

Why  Jove\^  satellites  are  less  than  Jove  ? 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 
Orde  is  heaven’s  first  law  ; and,  this  confest, 

Some  are,  and  must  be,  greater  than  the  rest. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Mon 
None  but  thyself  can  be  thy  parallel. 

To  cope  with  thee,  would  be  about  as  vain  , 

As  for  a brook  to  cope  with  ocean’s  flood. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

As  some  fierce  comet  of  tremendous  size, 

To  which  the  stars  did  rev’rence  as  it  pass’d. 

So  he  through  learning  and  through  fancy  took 
His  flight  sublime,  and  on  the  loftiest  top 
Of  fame’s  dread  mountain  sat. 

Pollok’s  Course  of  Time 
For  mountains  issue  out  of  plains,  and  not 
Plains  out  of  mountains ; and  so,  likewise,  kings 
Are  of  the  people,  not  the  people  of  kings. 

Bailey’s  Festus 


ERROR. 

P’or  he  that  oice  hath  missed  the  right  way. 

The  further  he  doth  go,  the  further  he  doth  stray, 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Quern 

More  proselytes  and  converts  use  t’  accrue 
To  false  p3rsuasions  than  the  right  and  true. 

For  error  and  mistakes  are  infinite. 

While  truth  has  but  one  way  to  be  i’  the  right. 


Butler. 


236 


ESTEEM. 


Even  so,  by  tasting  of  that  fruit  forbid. 

Where  they  sought  knowledge,  they  did  error  find 
III  they  desir’d  to  know,  and  ill  they  did. 

And  to  give  passion  eyes,  made  reason  blind. 

Davies’  Immortality  of  the  Sold 

Truth,  crush’d  to  earth,  shall  rise  again  : 

The  eternal  years  of  God  are  hers ; 

But  Error,  wounded,  writhes  with  pain, 

And  diei  among  his  worshippers. 

W.  C.  Bryant 


ESTEEM. 

Love  is  not  love, 

When  it  is  mingled  with  respects,  that  stand 
Aloof  from  the  entire  point. 

Shakspeare 

For  all  true  love  is  grounded  orv  esteem. 

Buckingham 

O,  why  is  gentle  love 
A stranger  to  that  mind. 

Which  pity  and  esteem  can  move, 

Which  can  be  just  and  kind  ? 

Lord  Lyttleton. 

Take  my  esteem,  if  you  on  that  can  live ; 

But,  frankly,  sir,  ’t  is  all  I have  to  give. 

Drydln. 

She  attracts  me  daily  with  her  gentle  virtues. 

So  soft,  and  beautiful,  and  h'-a  ’’enly. 


James  A.  Hillhoiise 


E TEKNITY  - FUTURITY 


237 


ETERNITY  — FUTURITY. 


O,  that  a man  might  know 
The  enr  of  this  clay’s  business,  ere  it  come, 
But  it  sufficeth  that  the  day  will  end  ; 

And  then  the  end  is  known. 


Beyond  is  all  abyss, 

Eternity,  whose  end  no  eye  can  reach. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost 


Too  curious  man  ! why  dost  thou  seek  to  know 
Events,  which,  good  or  ill,  foreknown,  are  woe  \ 

Th’  all-seeing  power,  that  made  thee  mortal,  gave 
Thee  every  thing  a mortal  state  should  have. 

Dry  DEN 

Sure  there  is  none  but  fears  a future  state ; 

And  when  the  most  obdurate  swear  they  do  not. 

Their  trembling  hearts  belie  their  boasting  tongues. 

Dryden 

Eternity  ! thou  pleasing,  dreadful  thought ! 

Through  what  variety  of  untried  beings — 

Through  what  new  scenes  and  changes  must  we  pass ! 
The  wide,  th’  unbounded  prospect  lies  before  me. 

But  shadows,  clouds,  and  darkness  rest  upon  it. 

Addison’s  Cato 

Heaven  from  all  creatures  hides  the  book  of  fate. 

All  but  the  page  prescrib’d,  their  present  state. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 

Oh  ! in  that  future  let  us  think 

To  hold  each  heart  the  heart  that  shares ; 

Vfith  them  the  immortal  waters  drink, 

Ani,  soul  in  soul,  grow  deathless  theirs! 


BvRO!I 


238 


ETIQUETTE -POLH  ENESS,  ^c. 


Shall  I be  left  forgotten  in  the  dust, 

When  Fate,  relenting,  lets  the  flower  revive  ! 

Shall  Nature’s  voice,  to  man  alone  unjust. 

Bid  him,  though  doom’d  to  perish,  hope  to  live  ^ 

Is  it  for  this  fair  Virtue  oft  must  strive 
With  disappointment,  penury  and  pain  ^ 

No  : heaven’s  immortal  spring  shall  yet  arrive 
And  man’s  majestic  beauty  bloom  again, 

Brignt  thro’  the  eternal  years  of  Love’s  triumphant  reirn. 

Beattie’s  Alinshd 


ETIQUETTE  — POLITENESS  — RUDENESS. 

Fit  for  the  mountains  and  the  barbarous  caves 
Where  manners  ne’er  were  preach’d. 

SnAKSPEARfc. 

He  was  the  mildest  manner’d  man, 

That  ever  scuttled  ship,  or  cut  a throat. 

Byron’s  Don  Jimn. 

To  all  she  was  polite  without  parade ; 

To  some  she  show’d  attention  of  that  kind 
Which  flatters,  but  is  flattery  convey’d 
In  such  a sort  as  ctmnot  leave  behind 
A trace  unworthy. 

Byron’s  Don  Jtirji. 

There ’s  nothing  in  the  world  like  etiquette 
In  kingly  chambers,  or  imperial  halls, 

As  also  at  the  race,  and  county  balls. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

There  was  a general  whisper,  toss,  and  wriggle, 

But  etiquette  forbade  them  all  to  giggle. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

All  smiles,  and  bows,  and  courtesy  was  he. 

J -T.  Watson 


EVENING  - EXAMPLE. 


239 


EVENING.  — (See  Day.) 


EXAMPLE. 


Mo  age  hath  been,  since  Nature  first  began 
To  work  Jove’s  wonders,  but  hath  left  behind 
Borne  deeds  of  praise  for  mirrors  unto  man, 

Which,  more  than  threatful  laws,  have  men  inclin’d  ^ 

To  thread  the  paths  of  praise  excites  the  mind  ; 

Mirrors  tie  thoughts  to  virtue’s  due  respects ; 

Example  hastens  deeds  to  good  effects. 

Mirror  for  MagistrUei 
\ fault  doth  never  with  remorse 
Our  minds  so  deeply  move, 

As  when  another’s  guiltless  life 
Our  error  doth  reprove. 

Bran  DO 


For  as  the  light 

Not  only  serves  to  show,  but  renders  us 
Mutually  profitable  : so  our  lives, 
la  acts  exemplary,  not  only  win 
Ourselves  good  names,  but  do  to  others  give 
Matter  for  virtuous  deeds,  by  which  we  live 

- Chapman 

’T  is  thus  the  spirit  of  a single  mind 

Maizes  that  of  multitudes  take  one  direction, 

As  roll  the  water  to  the  breathing  wind, 

Or  roams  the  herd  beneath  the  bull’s  protect’on. 

Byron’s  Don  Jnun 


240 


EXCKr.LENCE  - M ERIT  • WORTH. 


EXCEI.LENCE  — MERIT  — WORTH 

The  sweet  eye-glances,  that  like  arrows  glide, 

The  charming  smiles,  that  rob  sense  from  the  heart, 

I’he  lovely  pleasaunce,  and  the  lofty  pride, 

Cannot  expressed  be  by  any  art. 

Spenser’s  Sonnets. 

Oh,  how  much  more  doth  beauty  beauteous  seem. 

By  that  sweet  ornament  which  truth  doth  give  ! 

The  rose  looks  fair,  but  fairer  we  it  deem. 

For  that  sweet  odour  which  doth  in  it  live. 

Shakspfare. 

Age  cannot  wither  her,  nor  custom  stale 
Her  infinite  variety. 

Shakspeare, 

A combination  and  a form  indeed, 

Where  every  god  did  seem  to  set  his  seal, 

To  give  the  world  assurance  of  a man. 

SHAKSPEARe. 

More  pity  that  the  eagle  should  be  mew’d, 

While  kites  and  buzzards  prey  at  liberty. 

Shakspeare. 

Love,  sweetness,  goodness,  in  her  person  shin’d. 

Milton 

Good  nature  and  good  sense  must  ever  join  ; 

Tc  err  is  human,  to  forgive  divine. 

Pope. 

Beauties  in  vain  their  pretty  eyes  may  roll ; 

Charms  strike  the  sight,  but  merit  wins  the  soul 

POPR. 

Form’d  by  the  converse  happily  to  steer 
From  grave  to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe ; 

Jorrect  with  spirit,  eloquent  with  ease. 

Intent  to  reason,  or  polite  to  please. 


POPK. 


EXCELLENCE-  MERIT- WORTH. 


241 


Worth  makes  the  man,  and  want  of  it,  the  fellow 

Po«»E 

f-iet  entry  snarl,  lei:  slander  rail ; 

In  vain  malicious  tongues  assail : 

From  virtue’s  shield  (secure  from  wound,) 

Their  blunted,  venom’ d shafts  rebound. 

Gay’s  Fabln 

A matchless  pair; 

With  equal  virtue  form  d,  and  equal  grace. 

The  same,  distinguish’d  by  their  sex  alone ; 

Hers  the  mild  lustre  of  the  blooming  morn. 

And  his  the  radiance  of  the  risen  day. 

Thomson 

Ease  m your  mien,  and  swt^dess  in  your  face, 

You  speak  a syren,  and  you  move  a grace  , 

Nor  time  shall  urge  these  beauties  to  decay. 

While  virtue  gives  what  years  shall  steal  away. 

T4csl4:ll. 

Full  many  a gem,  of  purest  ray  serene. 

The  dark,  unfathom’d  caves  of  ocean  bear; 

Full  many  a flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen. 

And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  de^^eit  air. 

Grav’s  Ekgy. 

His  pencil  was  striking,  resistless,  and  grand ; 

His  manners  were  gentle,  complying,  and  bland ; 

Still  born  to  improve  us  in  every  part. 

His  pencil  our  faces — his  manners  our  heart. 

Goldsmith’s  Rttaiiaiion. 
Describe  him  who  can. 

An  abridgement  of  all  that  was  pleasf^nt  in  man. 

Goldsmith’s  lletaliation. 
Far  she  was  good  as  she  was  fair. 

None  none  on  earth  above  her — 

As  pure  in  thought  as  angels  are, 

'To  see  her,  was  to  love  her. 

u ^ 


242 


KXrET.LENCE  - IVIERIT  - WORTH. 


Angels  attend  thee  * May  their  wings 
Fan  every  shadf  w”  from  thy  brow — 

For  only  bright  and  lovely  things 

Should  wait  on  one  so  irood  as  thou. 

BiU  there  are  deeds  which  should  not  pass  away, 

And  names  that  must  not  wither. 

Byron’s  Childe  JJarultL 
Of  many  charms,  to  her  as  natural 
As  sweetness  to  the  flower,  or  salt  to  ocean. 

Byron’s  /Jon  Juan. 
Oh  ! she  was  perfect,  past  all  parallel ! 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 
Tho’  modest,  on  his  unembarrass’d  brow 
Nature  had  written  — Gentleman. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 
A truer,  nobler,  trustier  heart, 

More  loving  or  more  loyal,  never  beat 
Within  a human  breast. 

Byron’s  Two  Foscari 

And,  behind  the  foil 
Of  an  unblemish’d  loveliness,  to  find 
Charms  of  a higher  order,  and  a power 
Deeper  and  more  resistless. 

J.  G.  Fercivai.. 

f think  of  thee,  sweet  lady,  as  of  one 

Too  pure  to  mix  with  others,  like  some  star 
Shining  in  pensive  beauty  all  alone. 

Kindred  with  those  around,  yet  brighter  far. 

Mrs.  a.  B.  Wei, by. 
The  noble  mind,  unconscious  of  a fault. 

No  fortune’s  frowns  can  bend,  or  smiles  exalt, 

Like  the  firm  rock,  that  in  mid-ocean  braves 
The  war  of  whirlwinds,  and  the  dash  of  waves. 


EXCESS  - EXECUTION 


2 


A.11  oeamirig  with  ligh'  as  those  young  features  are, 

There ’s  a light  round  thy  heart  that  is  lovelier  far ; 

It  is  not  thy  cheek — ’tis  the  soul  dawning  clear — 
Though  its  innocent  blush  makes  thy  beauty  so  dear — 

As  the  sky  we  look  up  to,  though  glorious  and  fair, 

Is  look’d  up  to  more,  because  heaven  is  there  ! 

Moori 

One  in  whose  love,  I felt,  were  given 
The  mix’d  delights  of  either  sphere ; 

All  that  the  spirit  seeks  in  heaven, 

And  ail  the  senses  burn  for  here  ! 

Moore’s  Loves  of  the  ^n^els 
The  fame  that  a man  wins  himself,  is  best ; 

That  he  may  call  his  own.  Honours  put  on  him 
Make  him  no  more  a man  than  his  clothes  do. 

Which  are  as  soon  ta’en  off. 

Middleton 


EXCESS.  — (See  Drinking.^ 


EXECUTION. 


Tis  now  past  midnight,  and,  by  eight  to-moiTo\t, 

Thou  must  be  made  immortal. 

Shakspeare. 


If  I must  die, 

I will  encounter  darkness  as  a bride, 

And  hug  it  in  mine  arms. 

Shakspeare 

See  they  ^suffer  death; 

But  in  their  deaths  remember  they  are  men  ; 

Strain  not  the  laws  to  make  their  tortures  grievous. 

Addison’s  Cato, 


244 


EXERCISE. 


Slave  ! do  thine  office ! 

Strike  as  I struck  the  foe  ! strike  as  I would 
Have  struck  those  tyrants  ! strike  deep  as  m)  curse  ! 

Strike — and  but  once  1 

Byron’s  JMarino  Faliero 
These  the  last  accents  Hugo  spoke, 

“ Strike — and  flashing  fell  the  stroke — 

Roll’d  the  head,  and,  gushing,  sunk 
Back  the  stain’d  a»nd  heaving  trunk 
In  the  dust,  which  each  deep  vein 
Slak’d  with  its  ensanguin’d  rain ; 

His  eyes  and  lips  a moment  quiver. 

Convuls’d  and  quick — then  fix  for  ever ! 

Byron’s  Parisina. 


EXERCISE. 

Nobody ’s  healthful  without  exercise ; 

Just  wars  are  exercises  of  a state  ; 

Virtue ’s  in  motion,  and  contends  to  rise, 

With  generous  ascents  above  a mate. 

Aleyn. 

He  does  allot  for  every  exercise 
A several  hour ; for  sloth,  the  nurse  of  vices. 

And  rust  of  action,  is  a stranger  to  him. 

Massingei. 

Weariness 

Can  snore  upon  the  flint,  when  resty  sloth 
Finds  the  down-pillow  hard. 

SlIAKSPEAHL. 

Though  sluggards  deem  it  but  a foolish  chase. 

And  marvel  men  should  quit  their  easy  chair. 

The  toilsome  way,  and  long,  long  league  to  trace, 

Oh,  there  is  sweetness  in  the  mountain  air. 

And  life  that  bloated  ease  can  never  hope  to  share. 

. Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 


EXILE  - EXPECTATION. 


245 


Rise  early,  and  take  exercise  in  plenty, 

But  ilways  take  it  with  your  stomach  empty 


EXILE.  — (See  Banishment.) 


EXPECTATION  — SUSPENSE, 

But  be  not  long,  for  in  the  tedious  minutes, 

Exquisite  interval,  I ’m  on  the  rack ; 

For  sure  the  greatest  evil  man  can  know, 

Bears  no  proportion  to  this  dread  suspense. 

Frowde, 


Uncertainty  ! 

Fell  demon  of  our  fears  ! the  human  soul, 

That  can  support  despair,  supports  not  thee. 

Mallet. 

Yet  doth  he  live  !”  exclaims  th’  impatient  heir, 

And  sighs  for  sables  which  he  must  not  wear. 

Byron’s  Lara. 

Oh ! how  impatience  gains  upon  the  soul 

When  the  long-promis’d  hour  of  joy  draws  near ! 

How  slow  the  tardy  moments  seem  to  roil ! 

What  spectres  rise  of  inconsistent  fear ! 

Mrs.  Tighe’s  Psyche. 

To  the  fond  doubting  heart,  its  hopes  appear 
Too  brightly  fair,  too  sweet  to  realize ; 

All  seem  but  day  dreams  of  delight  too  dear ! 

Strange  hopes  and  fears  in  painful  contest  rise, 

While  the  scarce-trusted  bliss  seems  but  to  cheat  the  eves 

Mrs.  Tighe’s  Psi/'^ip 


246 


EXPERIENCE. 


EXPERIENCE. 


To  wilful  men, 

The  injuries  that  they  themselves  procure, 

Must  be  their  schoolmasters. 

SllAKSPKABK 


He  jests  at  scars,  that  never  felt  a wound. 

Shakspearr 


— Experience, 

If  wisdom’s  friend,  her  best ; if  not,  worst  foe. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 
Experience  join’d  to  common  sense. 

To  mortals  is  a providence. 

Green. 


Some  positive,  persisting  fools  we  know. 

Who,  if  once  wrong,  will  needs  be  always  so ; 

But  you  with  pleasure  own  your  errors  past. 

And  make  each  day  a critique  on  the  last. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism. 
Experience,  wounded,  is  the  school 
Where  men  learn  piercing  wisdom. 

Lord  Brook. 

O,  teach  him,  while  your  lessons  last, 

To  judge  the  present  by  the  past; 

Remind  him  of  each  wish  pursu’d. 

How  rich  it  glow’d  with  promis’d  good ; 

Remind  him  of  each  wish  enjoy’d. 

How  soon  his  hope’s  possession  cloy’d ! 

Scott’s  JRokehy 

For  most  men,  till  by  losing  render’d  sager. 

Will  back  their  own  opinions  with  a wager. 

Byron’s  Sejpo 

Her  hopes  ne’er  drew 

Aught  from  experience,  that  chiU  touchstone  whose 
Sad  proof  reduces  all  things  from  their  hue. 

BvRON’y  Islana. 


EXTRA VAG.\J^CE  - EXTREAIES. 


247 


EXTRAVAGANCE. 

1’he  iftaii  who  builds,  and  wants  wherewth  to  pay, 
l^rovides  a home  from  which  to  run  away. 

We  sacrifice  to  dress,  till  household  joys 

And  comforts  cease.  Dress  drains  our  cellar  dry, 

And  keeps  our  larder  clean  ; puts  out  our  fires 
And  introduces  hunger,  frost  and  woe. 

Where  peace  and  hospitality  might  reign. 

CoWPEK’d  7uSk, 

Dreading  that  climax  of  all  human  ills, 

The  inflammation  of  his  weekly  bills. 

Byron’s  Doji  Juan* 

In  my  young  days  they  lent  me  cash  that  way, 

Which  I found  very  troublesome  to  pay. 

Byron’s  Bon  Juan> 


EXTREMES. 

These  violent  delights  have  violent  ends 
And  in  their  triun  ph  die ; like  fire  and  powder, 

Which,  as  they  meet,  consume.  The  sweetest  honey 
Is  loathsome  in  its  own  deliciousness, 

And  in  the  taste  confounds  the  appetite. 

Shakspeare, 

Tbos?  edges  soonest  turn,  that  are  most  keen ; 

A sober  moderation  stands  secure. 

No  violent  extremes  endure. 

Alkyn 

Who  gripes  too  hard  the  dry  and  slippery  sand. 

Fields  none  at  all,  or  little,  m his  hand. 


Herrick 


248 


EY  ES  - FEATrjRES  - UPS,  tVc, 


Extremes,  thoug-h  contrary,  have  the  like  effects: 

Extreme  heat  mortifies,  like  extreme  c^la  ; 

Extreme  love  breeds  satiety,  as  well 
As  extreme  hatred  ; and  too  violent  rigour 
'iempts  chastity  as  much  as  too  much  license. 

Chafmam 


For  ever  in  a passion  or  a prayer. 

Pops, 


EYES— FEATURES —LIPS,  &c. 

Compare  her  eyes, 

Not  to  the  sun,  for  they  do  shine  by  night ; 

Nor  to  the  moon,  for  they  are  changing  neve'*  ’ 

N.)r  to  the  stars,  for  they  have  purer  light ; 

Nor  to  the  fire,  for  they  consume  not  ever : — ’ 

But  to  the  Maker’s  self  they  likest  be, 

Whose  light  doth  lighten  all  things  here  we  see. 

- Spenser’s  Sonnets 
And,  as  the  bright  sun  glorifies  the  sky, 

So  is  her  face  illumin’d  by  her  eye. 

Shakspeare. 

Her  eyes,  in  heaven, 

Would  through  the  airy  region  stream  so  bright. 

That  birds  would  sing,  and  think  it  were  not  night. 

Shakspeare, 

Her  eyes,  like  mar37'gold,  had  sheath’d  their  light, 

And,  canopied  in  darkness,  sweetly  lay, 

Till  they  might  open  to  adorn  the  day. 

Shakspeare. 

Fiom  woman’s  eyes  this  doctrine  I derive : 

They  sparkle  still  the  true  Promethean  fire  ; 

They  are  the  arts,  the  books,  the  academies, 

That  show,  contain,  and  nourish  ail  the  world. 

Shakspeare* 


EYES  - FEATURES  - LIPS  5lc. 


249 


Disdain  and  scorn  ride  sparkling  in  her  eyes. 

SlIAKSPEAttK 

Soft  as  the  down,  that  swells  the  cygnet’s  nest. 

Shenstone 

Her  tresses,  loose  behind. 

Play  on  her  neck,  and  wanton  in  the  wind , 

The  rising  blushes  which  her  cheek  o’erspread. 

Are  opening  roses  in  the  lily’s  bed. 

Gay’s  Di'nte 

In  those  sunk  eyes  the  grief  of  years  I trace, 

And  sorrow  seems  acquainted  with  that  face. 

ICKELL 

In  one  soft  look  what  language  lies ! 

Dibdiis 

Her  eyes  outshine  the  radiant  beams 
That  gild  the  passing  shower, 

And  glitter  o’er  the  crystal  streams. 

And  cheer  each  fresh’ning  hour. 

Her  lips  are  more  than  cherries  bright, 

A richer  dye  has  grac’d  them ; 

They  charm  the  admiring  gazer’s  sight. 

And  sweetly  tempt  to  kiss  them  1 ♦ 

Burns 

By  your  eyes  of  heavenly  blue, 

By  your  lips’  ambrosial  dew, 

Your  cheeks,  where  rose  and  lily  blend, 

Your  voice,  the  music  of  the  spheres! 

The  Padlock — ^ Farce, 

Which  melted  in  love,  and  which  kindled  in  war. 

Campbeli  , 

From  the  glance  of  her  eye 
Shun  danger  and  fly. 

For  fatal’s  the  glance  of  Kate  Kearney. 

Miss  Owenson. 

With  sweetness  and  beauty  thy  daughters  arise. 

With  rose-blooming  cheeks,  and  love-languishing  eyes. 


250 


BYES  - FE ATBE  ES  - LIPS,  Sic. 


Down  lier  white  neck,  long,  floating  auburn  curls, 

The  least  of  which  would  set  ten  poets  raving. 

Byron’s  Don  Jnm 

Her  glossy  hair  was  cluster’d  o’er  a brow 

Bright  with  intelligence,  and  fair  and  smooth ; 

Her  eyebrows’  shape  was  like  the  aerial  bow ; 

Her  cheek  all  purple  with  the  beam  of  youth. 

Byron’s  Don  Jucni 

An  eye ’s  an  eye,  and,  whether  black  or  blue, 

Is  no  great  matter,  so  ’t  is  in  request ; 

’T  is  nonsense  to  dispute  about  a hue  ; 

The  kindest  may  be  taken  as  the  best. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

.X  pure,  transparent,  pale,  and  radiant  face, 
jutike  to  a lighted  alabaster  vase. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 
Her  eye’s  dark  charm ’t  were  vain  to  tell ; 

But  gaze  on  that  of  the  gazelle. 

It  will  assist  thy  fancy  well. 

Byron’, 3 Giaour. 

Soft  eyes  look’d  love  to  eyes  that  spoke  again. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
And  the  wild  sparkle  of  her  eye  seem’d  caught 
From  high,  and  lighten’d  with  electric  thought. 

Byron’s  Lara. 

And  eyes  disclos’d  what  eyes  alone  can  tell. 

Dr.  Dwight. 

Eyes  like  the  starlight  of  the  soft  midnight. 

So  darkly  beautiful,  so  deeply  bright. 

Mrs.  C.  H.  W.  Eslino. 
AlA  hate’s  last  lightning  quivers  from  his  eyes. 

Charles  Sprague. 

There  are  whole  veins  of  diamonds  in  thine  eyes. 

Might  furnish  crowns  for  all  the  queens  of  earth. 

Bailey’s  Ve^inn. 


EYES -FEATURES -LIPS,  &c. 


251 


With  lightsome  brow,  and  beaming  eyes,  and  bright, 

Long,  glorious  locks,  which  drop  upon  thy  cheek, 

Like  gold-huad  cloud-flakes  on  the  ros)  morn. 

Bailey’s  Festm 

Thy  blue  eyes 

Steal  o’er  the  heart  like  sunshine  o’er  the  skies ; 

Theirs  is  the  mild  and  intellectual  ray 
That  to  the  inmost  spirit  wins  its  way ; 

Theirs  are  the  beams  that  full  upon  you  roll, 

Surprising  all  the  senses  and  the  soul. 

Mrs.  a.  B.  Welby 

The  bright  black  eye,  the  melting  blue — 

I cannot  choose  between  the  two  ; 

But  that  is  dearest  all  the  while. 

That  wears  for  me  the  sweetest  smile. 

O.  W.  HoLMEa 

Sweet,  pouting  lips,  whose  colour  mocks  the  rose, 

Rich,  ripe,  and  teeming  with  the  dew  of  bliss, — 

The  flower  of  love’s  forbidden  fruit,  which  grows 
Insidiously,  to  tempt  us  with  a kiss. 

R.  H.  Wilde’s  Tasso’s  Sonnets^ 
Yet  well  that  eye  could  flash  resentment’s  rays, 

Or,  proudly  scornful,  check  the  boldest  gaze : 

Chill  burning  passion  with  a calm  disdain. 

And  with  one  glance  rekindle  it  again. 

C.  F.  Hoffman. 

Let  other  men  bow,  and  utter  the  vow 
Of  devotion  and  love  without  end. 

As  the  sparkling  black  eye  in  triumph  draws  nigh, 

Its  glances  upon  them  to  bend. 

But  give  me  the  eye,  thro’  which  I can  spy 
To  the  depths  of  a heart  warm  and  true ; 

Whose  colour  may  vie  with  the  hue  of  the  sky, — 

The  soft,  the  sweet,  love-beaming  blue! 

J.  T.  W'atsojj 


252 


FAIRIES 


• FAIRIES. 

In  silence  sad 
Flip  we  after  the  night’s  shade  ; 

We  the  globe  can  compass  soon, 

Swifter  than  the  wandering  moon. 

ShAKSP£A(\R 

I took  It  for  a fairy  vision 

Of  some  gay  creatures  of  the  element, 

That  in  the  colours  of  the  rainbow  live, 

And  play  i’  th’  plighted  clouds. 

Milton’s  Comm 

And  now  they  throng  the  moonlight  glade, 

Above — below — on  every  side. 

Their  little  minim  forms  array’d 

In  ail  the  tricks}  pomp  of  fairy  pride ! 

Drake’s  Culprit  Fay. 
The  palace  of  the  sylphid  queen — 

Its  spiral  columns,  gleaming  bright, 

Were  streamers  of  the  northern  .light; 

Its  curtain’s  light  and  lovely  flush 
Was  of  the  morning’s  rosy  blush; 

And  the  ceiling  fair,  that  rose  aboon. 

The  white  and  feathery  fleece  of  noon. 

Drake’s  Culprit  Fay 

Her  mantle  wa!  the  purple  roll’d 
At  twilight  in  the  west  afar; 

’Twas  tied  with  threads  of  dawning  gold. 

And  button’d  with  a sparkling  star. 

Drake’s  Culprit  Fay 
Their  harps  are  of  the  amber  shade, 

Tnat  hides  the  blush  of  waking  day. 

And  every  gleamy  string  is  made 

Of  silverv  moonshine’s  lengthen’d  ray. 

Drake’s  Culprit  Fay 


FAIRIES. 


25 


Bui  she  led  him  to  the  palace  gate, 

And  call’d  the  sylphs  who  hover’d  there, 

And  bade  them  fly  and  bring  him  straight 
Of  clouds  condens’d  a sable  car. 

Drake’s  Culprit  Fay 

As  ever  ye  saw  a bubble  rise. 

And  shine  with  a thousand  clianging  dyes. 

Till,  lessening  far,  through  ether  driven. 

It  mingles  with  the  hues  of  heaven : 

As,  at  the  glimpse  of  morning  pale. 

The  lance-fly  spreads  his  silken  sail. 

And  gleams  with  blendings  soft  and  bright. 

Till  lost  in  the  shade  of  fading  night : — 

So  rose  from  the  earth  the  lovely  Fay, — 

So  vanish’d  far  in  heaven  away ! 

Drake’s  Culprit  Fay 

He  put  his  acorn-helmet  on ; 

It  was  plum’d  of  the  silk  of  the  thistle-down , 

The  corselet  plate,  that  guarded  his  breast. 

Was  once  the  wild  bees’  golden  vest; 

His  cloak,  of  a thousand  mingled  dyes. 

Was  form’d  of  the  wings  of  butterflies; 

His  shield  was  the  shell  of  a lady-bug  queen. 

Studs  of  gold  on  a ground  of  green ; 

And  the  quivering  lance  which  he  brandish’d  bright, 

W as  the  sting  of  a wasp  he  had  slain  in  fight. 

Drake’s  Culprit  Fay 

Swift  he  bestroae  his  fiery  steed ; 

He  bared  his  blade  of  the  bent  grass  blue 
lU  drove  his  spurs  of  the  cockle-seed. 

And  away,  like  a glance  of  thought,  he  flew. 

To  skim  the  heavens,  and  follow  far  , 

I’he  fiery  tail  of  the  rocket-star. 


Drake’s  Culprit  Fay. 


54 


FAITH 


FAITH. 

True  faith  and  reason  are  the  soul’s  two  eyes ; 

Faith  evermore  looks  upwards  and  descries 
Objects  remote  ; but  reason  can  discover 
Things  only  near — sees  nothing  that’s  above  her ; 

They  are  not  matches — often  disagree, 

And  sometimes  both  are  clos’d,  and  neither  see. 

ClUARLKS. 

Faith  lights  us  through  the  dark  to  deity ; 

Whilst,  without  sight,  we  witness  that  she  shows 
More  God  than  in  his  works  our  eyes  can  see. 

Though  none,  but  by  those  works,  the  Godhead  knows 

Sir  W.  Davenant. 

For  modes  of  faith  let  graceless  zealots  fight ; 

He  can’t  be  wrong,  whose  life  is  in  the  right. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man, 
Faith  builds  a bridge  across  the  gulf  of  death. 

To  break  the  shock  blind  Nature  cannot  shun. 

And  lands  thought  smoothly  on  the  farther  shore. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts, 
Death’s  terror  is  the  mountain  faith  removes. 

That  mountain-barrier  between  man  and  peace : 

'T  is  faith  disarms  destruction,  and  absolves 
From  every  clamorous  charge  the  guiltless  tomb. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 
Fond  as  we  are,  and  justly  fond  of  faith. 

Reason,  we  grant,  demands  our  first  regard; 

The  mother  honour’d,  as  the  daughter  dear — 

Reason ’s  the  root,  fair  faith  is  but  the  flower. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts, 
But  faith,  fanatic  faith,  once  wedded  fast 
To  some  dear  falsehood,  hugs  it  to  the  last. 

Moore’s  Lalla  Roohh 


FALSEHOOD -TIHJTH, 


rital  princip's,  which  keeps  rny  heart 

Firnn,  ’mid  the  pressure  of  a thousand  ills, 

Thou  my  life’s  solace  and  supporter  art, 

Mingling  with  bliss  the  bitter  cup  it  fills. 

Far  in  the  future  hath  thy  watcher’s  glance 
Discover’d  peace,  and  many  a blissful  spot ; 

While  present  griefs  seem  shadows  that  enhance 
The  opening  glories  of  thy  future  lot. 

Mrs.  S,  MowbpaI 


FALSEHOOD  — TRUTH  — SINCERITY 

He  is  a freeman  whom  the  truth  makes  free, 

And  all  are  slaves  beside. 

COWPER, 

I cannot  hide  what  I am : I must  be 
Sad  when  I have  a cause,  and  smile  at  no  man’s 
Jests ; eat  when  I have  stomach,  and  wait  for 
No  man’s  leisure ; sleep  when  I am  drowsy, 

And  tend  on  no  man’s  business ; laugh  when  I 
Am  merry,  and  claw  no  man  in  his  humour, 

Shakspeare 

This,  above  a..,  to  thine  own  self  be  true  ; 

An»  it  must  foliow,  as  the  night  the  day. 

Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man. 

Shakspeare 

In  many  Iooks  the  false  heart’s  history 
h writ,  in  moods,  and  frowns,  and  wrinkles  strange. 

SHAKSFEARlt. 

Oh,  now  much  more  doth  beauty  beauteous  seem. 

By  that  sweet  ornament  which  truth  doth  give ! 

The  rose  is  fair,  but  fairer  we  it  deem, 

For  that  sweet  odour  which  doth  in  it  live. 


SllAKSri!  AF.K 


256 


FAI BEHOOF) -TRUTH,  <fcc 


I think  good  .houghts,  while  others  write  good  words, 

And,  like  unletter’d  clerks,  still  cry  amen 
To  every  hymn  that  abler  spirit  affords. 

In  polish’d  form  of  well  refined  words. 

Shakspkahe. 

The  man  of  pure  and  simple  heart 
Through  life  disdains  a double  part; 

He  never  needs  the  screen  of  lies, 

IJis  inward  bosom  to  disguise. 

Gay’s  Fables. 

What  he  says 

You  may  believe,  and  pawn  your  soul  upon  it. 

Shirley 

’Twixt  truth  and  error  there ’s  this  difference  known. 

Error  is  fruitful,  truth  is  only  one. 

Herrick 

Dishonour  waits  on  perfidy.  The  villain 
Should  blush  to  think  a falsehood  ; ’t  is  the  crime 
Of  cowards. 

C.  Johnson 

Let  falsehood  be  a stranger  to  thy  lips. 

Shame  on  the  policy  that  first  began 
To  tamper  with  the  heart,  to  hide  its  thoughts ! 

And  doub’3"  - haine  on  that  inglorious  tongue, 

That  sold  its  honesty,  and  told  a lie ! 

Havard 

When  fiction  rises,  pleasing  to  the  eye. 

Men  will  believe,  because  they  love  the  lie  ; 

But  truth  herself,  if  clouded  with  a frown. 

Must  have  some  solemn  proof,  to  pass  her  down. 

Church  II  i 

The  sages  say\  dame  Truth  delights  to  dwell, — 

Strange  mansion  ! — in  the  bottom  of  a well. 

Questions  are,  th(‘n,  the  windlass  and  the  rope, 

That  pull  the  grave  old  gcmllewoman  up. 

Dr.  Wolcot’s  Peter  Pindar 


FALSEHOOD -TRUTH,  &c. 


257 


It  is  not  in  the  power 
Of  Painting  or  of  Sculpture  to  express 
Aught  so  divine  as  the  fair  fjrm  of  Truth  ! 

The  creatures  of  th^ir  art  may  catch  the  eye. 

But  her  sweet  nature  captivates  the  soul. 

Cumberland’s  Phiknion. 
Be3mnd  all  contradiction, 

The  most  sincere  that  ever  dealt  in  fiction. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 
My  smiles  must  be  sincere,  or  not  at  all. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

’T  is  strange,  but  true  ; for  truth  is  always  strange, 
Siranger  than  fiction.  If  it  could  be  told. 

How  much  would  novels  gain  by  the  exchange  ! 

How  differently  the  world  would  men  behold  ! 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 
I know  the  action  was  extremely  wrong ; 

1 own  it,  \ deplore  it,  I condemn  it ; 

But  I detest  all  fiction,  even  in  song. 

And  so  must  tell  the  truth,  howe’er  you  blame  it. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 
I mean  to  show  things  as  they  really  are, 

Not  as  they  ought  to  be  ; for  1 avow 
That  till  we  see  what ’s  what  in  fact,  we  ’re  far 
From  much  improvement. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 
First,  I would  have  thee  cherish  truth, 

As  leading-star  in  virtue’s  train  ; 

Folly  may  pass,  nor  tarnish  youth. 

But  falsehood  leaves  a poison-stain. 

Miss  Eliza 

Truth,  crush’d  to  earth,  shall  rise  again, — 

7’he  eternal  years  of  God  are  hers ; 

But  Error,  wounded,  writhes  with  pain, 

A nd  d‘es  among  his  worshippers. 


ir 


W.  C.  Brvant. 


FAME  - NOTORIETY. 


FAME  — NOTORIETY. 

Death  makes  no  conquest  of  this  conqueror, 

For  now  he  lives  in  fame  though  not  in  life. 

Shaksikeabk 

Talk  not  to  me  of  fond  renown,  the  rude, 

Inconstant  blast  of  the  base  multitude: 

Their  breaths  nor  souls  can  satisfaction  make, 

For  half  the  joys  I part  with  for  their  sake. 

Crowpi 

I courted  fame  but  as  a spur  to  brave 
And  honest  deeds ; and  who  despises  fame, 

Will  soon  renounce  the  virtues  that  deserve  it. 

Mai>«t 

Knows  he  that  mankind  praise  against  their  will. 

And  mix  as  much  detraction  as  they  can  ? 

Knows  he  that  faithless  fame  her  whisper  has. 

As  well  as  trumpet?  That  his  vanity 
Is  so  much  tickled  from  not  hearing  all? 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 
They,  spider-like,  spin  out  their  precious  all, 

Their  more  than  vitals  spin  in  curious  webs 
Of  subtle  thought  and  exquisite  design — 

Fine  networks  of  the  brain — to  catch  a fly  ! 

The  momentary  buzz  of  vain  renown  ! 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 
With  fame,  in  just  proportion,  envy  grows ; 

The  man  that  makes  a character,  makes  foes. 

Young 

Fame  is  the  spur  that  the  clear  spirit  doth  raise. 

To  scorn  delights,  and  live  laborious  days. 

Milton 

The  whole  amount  of  that  enormous  fame, 

A tale  that  blends  their  glory  with  their  shame. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Maih 


FAME  - NOTORIETY . 


259 


What ’s  fame  ? a fancied  life  in  others’  breath, 

A thing  beyond  us,  even  before  our  death. 

Pole’s  Essay  on  Mcv^ 
Whose  honours  with  increase  of  ages  grow, 

As  streanris  roll  down,  enlarging  as  they  go. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism, 
A youth  to  fame,  ere  yet  to  manhood,  known. 

Pope 

Absurd  ! to  think  to  overreach  the  grave. 

And  from  the  wreck  of  names  to  rescue  ours : 

The  best  concerted  schemes  men  lay  for  fame. 

Die  fast  away ; only  themselves  die  faster. 

Blair’s  Grave. 

He  left  a name  at  which  the  world  grew  pale. 

To  point  a moral,  or  adorn  a tale. 

Dr.  Johnson. 

And  glory  long  has  made  the  sages  smile  ; 

’T  is  something,  nothing,  words,  illusion,  wind — 
Depending  more  upon  the  historian’s  style 
Than  on  the  name  a person  leaves  behind. 

Byron’s  Don  Juatu 

What  is  the  end  of  fame  ? ’T  is  but  to  fill 
A certain  portion  of  uncertain  paper : 

Some  liken  it  to  climbing  up  a hill, 

Whose  summit,  like  all  hills,  is  lost  in  vapour. 

For  th''S  men  write,  speak,  preach,  and  heroes  kill, 

Anr  bards  burn  what  they  call  “ the  midnight  taper.” 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

And  blaze  with  guilty  glare  thro’  future  time,  j 

Eternal  beacons  of  consummate  crime. 

Byron’s  English  Bards.,  Sfc 
Far  dearer  the  grave  or  the  prison, 

Illumed  by  a patriot’s  name, 

I ban  the  trophies  of  all  who  have  risen 
On  liberty’s  ruins  to  fame 


Moors. 


260 


FANCY  - IMACINATION. 


What  is  tame,  and  what  is  glory  ? 

A dream,  a jester’s  lying  story, 

To  tickle  fools  withal,  or  be 
A theme  for  second  infancy. 

A word  of  praise,  perchance  of  blame, 

The  wreck  of  a time-bandied  name — 

And  this  is  glory — this  is  fame  ! 

MoTUERWELt 

— To  win  the  wreath  of  fame. 

And  write  on  memory’s  scroll  a deathless  name. 

Sands. 

Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  us 
We  can  make  our  lives  sublime, 

And,  departing,  leave  behind  us 
Footprints  on  the  sands  of  time. 

H.  W.  Longfellow, 

We  tell  th}^  doom  without  a sigh, 

For  thou  art  freedom’s  now,  and  fame’s — 

One  of  the  few,  th’  immortal  names 
That  were  not  born  to  die  ! 

FlTZC’lLrN  Hallecb 


FANCY  — IMAGINATION. 

Oh,  who  can  hold  a fire  in  his  hand, 

By  thinking  on  the  frosty  Caucasus  ? 

Or  cloy  the  hungry  edge  of  appetite. 

By  bare  imagination  of  a feast  ? 

Or  wallow  naked  in  December’s  snow, 

By  thinking  on  fantastic  summer’s  heat  ? — 

Oh  no — the  apprehension  of  the  good 
Owes  but  the  greater  feeling  of  the  worse. 

SnAKSPEARg 

The  lunatic,  the  lover,  and  the  poet, 

Are  of  imagination  all  compact. 

Shakspeark 


FANCY  - IMAGINATION 


261 


This  busy  power  is  working  day  and  night ; 

For  when  the  outward  senses  rest  do  take, 

A thousand  dreams,  fantastical  and  light, 

With  fluttering  wings  do  keep  her  still  awake. 

Davies’  Immortality  of  the  Soul 
Each  change  of  many-colour’d  life  he  drew. 

Exhausted  worlds,  and  then  imagin’d  new ; 

Existence  saw  him  spurn  her  bounded  reign. 

And  panting  time  toil’d  after  him  in  vain. 

Dr.  Johnson,  on  Shakspeare 
Do  what  he  will,  he  cannot  realize 
Half  he  conceives — the  glorious  vision  flies ; 

Go  where  he  may,  he  cannot  hope  to  find 
The  truth,  the  beauty  pictur’d  in  his  mind. 

Rogers 

Pleasant  at  noon,  beside  the  vocal  brook. 

To  lie  one  down  and  watch  the  floating  cloud 
And  shape  to  fancy’s  wild  imaginings. 

Their  ever-varying  forms. 

Southey 

Woe  to  the  youth  whom  Fancy  gains. 

Winning  from  Reason’s  hand  the  reins. 

Scott’s  Rokcby 

Where  Fancy  halted,  weary  in  her  flight, 
m other  men.  his,  fresh  as  morning,  rose. 

And  soar’d  untrodden  heights,  and  seem’d  at  home 
Where  angels  bashful  look’d. 

4 Pollok’s  Course  of  Time. 
The  beings  of  the  mind  are  not  of  clay, 

Essentially  immortal,  they  create 
And  multiply  in  us  a brighter  ray, 

And  more  belov’d  existence. 

Byron’s  Childe  Haroid 
Like  the  Chaldean,  he  could  watch  the  stars 
Till  he  had  peopled  them  with  beings  bright 
As  their  own  beams. 


Byron’s  Childe  Harold 


262 


FANCY -FAREWELL,  &c. 


— Immortal  dreams,  that  could  beguile 
The  blind  old  man  of  Scio’s  rocky  isle 

Byron’s  Giarnf 

And  dream’d  again 

The  visions  which  arise  without  a sleep. 

Byron’s  Lament  of  Tass^ 
Oh ! that  I were  i 

The  viewless  spirit  of  a lovely  sound, 

A living  voice,  a breathing  harmony, 

A bodiless  enjoyment — born  and  dying 
With  the  blest  tone  which  made  me  ! 

Byron's  Manfred. 

One  of  those  passing  rainbow  dreams 
Half  light,  half  shade,  which  Fancy’s  beams 
Paint  on  the  fleeting  mists  that  roll. 

In  trance  or  slumber,  round  the  soul. 

Moore’s  Lallu  Rooklu 
Above,  below,  in  ocean  and  in  sky. 

Thy  fairy  worlds,  Imagination,  lie. 

Campbell. 

’Mid  earthly  scenes  forgotten  or  unknown, 

Lives  in  ideal  worlds,  and  wanders  there  alone. 

Carlos  Wilcox. 

I give  you  a legend  from  Fancy’s  own  sketch, 

Tho’,  I warn  you,  he ’s  given  to  fibbing — the  wretch  ! 

S.  G.  Gooprich. 


FAREWELL.  — (See  Adieu.) 


FARMER.  — (See  Blacksmith.) 


FASHION.  — fSee  Apparel.) 


FATE  - FATHER,  &c. 


263 


FATE.  — (See  Destinv.) 


FATHER—  MOTHER  — PARENTS. 


Had  doting  Priam  check’d  his  son’s  desire, 

Troy  liad  been  bright  with  fame,  and  not  with  fire. 

Shakspeare 


The  poor  wren. 

The  most  diminutive  of  birds,  will  fight. 

The  young  ones  in  her  nest,  against  the  owl. 

Shakspeare 


Fathers  their  children  and  themselves  abuse. 

That  wealth,  a husband,  for  their  daughters  choose. 

Shirley. 

But  parents,  to  their  offspring  blind. 

Consult  not  parts,  nor  turn  of  mind  ; 

But,  even  in  infancy,  decree 
What  this,  what  th’  other  son  shall  be. 

Gay’s  Fabhs. 

For  if  there  be  a human  tear 
From  passion’s  dross  refin’d  and  clear 
’T  is  that  which  pious  parents  shed 
Upon  a duteous  daughter’s  head 

ScOl'T 

To  aid  thy  mind’s  development — to  watch 
The  dawn  of  little  joys — to  sit  and  see 
Almost  thy  very  growth — to  view  thee  eaten 
Knowledge  of  objects — wonders  yet  to  see  ! 

To  hold  thee  lightly  on  a gentle  knee. 

And  print  on  thy  soft  cheek  a parent’s  kiss, — 

This,  it  should  seem,  was  not  reserv’d  for  me  ; 

Yet  such  was  in  my  nature. 


Bviion’s  Childe  Harold 


264 


FATHER -MOTHER, 


My  mother  ! at  that  holy  name 
Within  my  bosom  there ’s  a gush 
Of  feeling,  which  no  time  can  tame, 

A.  feeling,  which,  for  years  of  fame, 

1 would  not,  could  not  crush  ! 

P.  MoflllW 

My  heart  grew  softer  as  I gazed  upon 

That  youthful  mother,  as  she  sooth’d  .0  rest, 

With  a low  sonor,  her  lov’d  and  cherish'd  one, 

The  bud  of  promise  on  her  gentle  bieast ; 

For  ’tis  a sight  that  angel  ones  above 

May  stoop  to  gaze  on  from  their  bovvers  of  blis^, 

When  Innocence  upon  the  breast  of  Love 
Is  cradled,  in  a sinful  world  like  this. 

Mrs,  a.  B.  W El 

Ere  yet  her  child  hath  drawn  its  earliest  breath, 

A mother’s  love  begins — it  grows  till  death  ! 

Lives  before  life,  with  death  not  dies,  but  seems 
The  very  substance  of  immortal  dreams. 


A father’s  heart 

Is  tender,  though  the  77ian  be  made  of  stone. 


Of  sighs  that  speak  a father’s  woe. 

Of  pangs  that  none  but  mothers  know. 

ClIARLEI'  SpRAGCa 

Swpet  is  the  image  of  the  brooding  dove  !— 

Holy  as  heaven  a mother’s  tender  love  ! 

The  love  of  many  prayers,  and  many  tears, 

Which  changes  not  with  dim  declining  years, — 

The  only  love,  which,  on  this  teeming  earth, 

Ask^  no  return  for  passion’s  wayward  birth. 

Mrs.  Norton’s  IhciSfo, 


FAVOUR. 


265 


There  are  smiles  and  tears  in  the  mother  s eyes, 

For  her  new-born  infant  beside  her  lies  ; 

Oh,  heaven  of  bliss  ! when  the  heart  overflows 
With  the  rapture  a mother  only  knows 

Henry  Ware. 


FAVOUR. 

There  is,  betwixt  that  smile  we  would  aspire  to, 

That  sweet  aspect  of  princes,  and  their  ruin. 

More  pangs  and  fears  than  wars  or  women  have ; 

And  when  he  falls,  he  falls  like  Lucifer, 

Never  to  hope  again. 

Shakspeare 

O momentary  grace  of  mortal  man. 

Which  we  more  hunt  for  than  the  grace  of  God  ! 

Who  builds  his  hope  in  air  of  your  fair  looks. 

Lives  like  a drunken  sailor  on  a mast, 

Ready  with  every  nod  to  tumble  down 
Into  the  fatal  bowels  of  the  deep. 

Shakspeare, 

’T  is  ever  thus  when  favours  are  denied  ; 

All  had  been  granted  but  the  thing  we  beg : 

O DC? 

And  still  some  great  unlikely  substitute — 

Your  life,  your  soul,  your  all  of  earthly  good — 

Is  proffer’d,  in  the  room  of  one  small  boon. 

Joanna  Baili  is 

No  trifle  is  so  small  as  what  obtains. 

Save  that  which  loses  favour:  ’tis  a breath 
Which  hangs  upon  a smile  ! A look,  a word, 

A frown,  the  air-biult  tower  of  fortune  shakes. 

And  down  the  unsubstantial  fabric  falls. 


Hannah  Mohs 


266 


FEAR -FEASTING.  <fec. 


FEAR.  — (See  Cowardice.  ) 


FEASTING.  — (See  Appetite.) 


FEATURES.  — (See  Eyes. 


FEELING  — SENSIBILITY 

Our  sensibilities  are  so  acute, 

The  fear  of  being  silent  makes  us  mute. 

COWPER. 

Yet  what  is  wit,  and  what  the  poet’s  art  ? 

Can  genius  shield  the  vulnerable  heart? 

Ah  no  ! where  bright  imagination  reigns, 

The  fine-wrought  spirit  feels  acuter  pains ; 

Where  glow  exalted  sense  and  taste  refin’d, 

There  keener  anguish  rankles  in  the  mind  ; 

There  feeling  is  diffus’d  through  every  part. 

Thrills  in  each  nerve,  and  lives  in  all  the  heart ; 

And  those,  whose  generous  souls  each  tear  would  keep 
From  others’  eyes,  are  born  themselves  to  weep. 

Hannah  More, 

The  soul  of  music  slumbers  in  the  shell. 

Till  wak’d  and  kindled  by  the  master’s  spell. 

And  feeling  hearts — touch  them  but  lightly — pour 
A thousand  melodies  unheard  before. 

Rogers’  Human  Lift 

Admire— exalt — despise — laugh — weep — for  here 
There  is  much  matter  for  all  feeling. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 


FESTIVITY 


267 


What  we  can  ne’er  express,  yet  cannot  all  conceal. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harola. 

Striking  th’  electric  chain  wherewith  we  ’re  darkly  bound, 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 

There  are  some  feelings  time  cannot  benumb. 

Byron’s  Childe  HaruaL 

The  keenest  pangs  the  wretched  find, 

Are  rapture  to  the  dreary  void, 

The  leafless  desert  of  the  mind, 

The  waste  of  feelings  unemploy’d 

Byron’s  Giaour, 

The  deepest  ice  that  ever  froze 
Can  only  o’er  the  surface  close  ; 

The  I'.ving  stream  lies  quick  below. 

And  flows,  and  cannot  cease  to  flow. 

Byron’s  Parisina. 

Oh  ! life  is  a waste  of  wearisome  hours. 

Which  seldom  the  rose  of  enjoyment  adorns ; 

And  the  heart  that  is  soonest  awake  to’ the  flowers. 

Is  always  the  first  to  be  touch’d  by  the  thorns. 

Moore. 

Dried  hastily  the  teardrop  from  her  cheek. 

And  signified  the  vow  sne  could  not  speak. 

Campbell. 

\ felt  to  madness ! but  my  full  heart  gave 
No  utterance  to  the  ineffable  within. 

Words  were  too  weak  : they  were  unknown ; but  still 
Tlie  feeling  was  mcst  poignant. 

J.  G.  Percivaj., 


FESTIVITY.  — (See  Drinking.) 


268 


FICKLENESS -fighting;.  &c 


FICKLENESS. 


Of  constancy  no  root  infix’d, 

That  either  they  love  nothing,  or  not  long. 

We  in  vain  the  fickle  sex  pursue, 
Who  change  the  constant  lover  for  the  new. 

She  was  fair — and  passion  b(*gun  ; 

She  smil’d — and  I could  not  but  love  ; 

She  is  faithless — and  I am  undone. 

Inconstant  as  the  passing  wind. 

As  winter’s  dreary  frost  unkind  ; 

To  fix  her,  ’t  were  a task  as  vain 
To  count  the  April  drops  of  rain. 

Ladies  wnose  love  is  constant  as  the  wind. 


Lrioe. 


Prior. 


Shenstone. 


Smollett 

Young. 


She  will,  and  she  will  not — she  grants,  denies, 

Consents,  retracts,  advances,  and  then  flies. 

Granville 


F I Cx  H T I N G.  — (See  Battle.) 


FIRMNESS.  — (See  Determination.) 


FISHING  — HUNTING  — SPORTS. 

T'he  hounds  shall  make  the  welkin  answer  them. 
Ana  fetch  shrill  echoes  from  the  hollow  earth 


SuaKSLE \RE 


FISHING -HUNTING,  &c. 


269 


If  all  the  year  were  playing  holiday, 

To  sport  would  be  as  tedious  as  to  work. 

Shakspeare 

I saw  him  beat  the  surges  under  him, 

And  ride  upon  their  backs ; he  trod  the  water 
Whose  enmity  he  flung  aside,  and  breasted 
The  surge  most  swoln  that  met  him. 

Shakspeare. 

The  torren,  roar’d  ; and  we  did  buffet  it 
With  lusty  sinews,  throwing  it  aside, 

And  stemming  it  with  hearts  of  controversy. 

Shakspeare. 

In  wrestling,  nimble,  and  in  running,  swift ; 

In  shooting,  steady,  and  in  swimming,  strong ; 

Well  made  to  strike,  to  leap,  to  throw,  to  lift. 

And  all  the  sports  that  shepherds  are  among. 

Spenser’s  JlstropheL 

Listening  how  the  hounds  and  horn 
Cheerly  rouse  the  slumbering  morn. 

From  the  side  of  some  hoar  hill, 

Through  the  high  wood  echoing  shrill. 

Milton. 

Far  up  the  stream  the  twisted  hair  he  throws. 

Which  down  the  murmuring  current  quickly^flows. 

When,  if  or  chance  or  hunger’s  powerful  sway 
Directs  the  roving  trout  this  fatal  way. 

He  greedily  sucks  in  the  twining  bait. 

And  tugs  and  nibbles  the  fallacious  meat. 

Now,  happy  fisherman,  now  twitch  the  line ! 

How  the  rod  bends ! Behold  the  prize  is  thine. 

Gay’s  Rural  Sporn 

With  what  delight  the  rapid  course  I view ! 

, How  does  my  eye  the  circling  race  pursue ! 

He  snaps  deceitful  air  with  empty  jaws, 

The  subtle  hare  darts  swift  beneath  his  paws ; 


270 


FISHING  - HUNTING,  A^c. 


She  files,  she  stretches  now  with  nimble  bound  ; 

Eager  he  presses  on,  but  overshoots  his  ground  ; 

She  turns ; he  winds,  and  soon  regains  the  way, 

Then  tears  with  gory  mouth  the  screaming  prey. 

Gay’s  Rural  Spoilt 

See  how  the  well-taught  pointer  It'ads  the  way  ! 

The  scent  grows  warm  ; he  stops  ; he  springs  the  prey  ; 
The  fluttering  coveys  from  the  stubble  rise, 

And  on  swift  wings  divide  the  sounding  skies; 

The  scattering  lead  pursues  the  certain  sight. 

And  death  in  thunder  overtakes  their  flight. 

Gay’s  Rural  Sportt 

Soon  as  Aurora  drives  away  the  night. 

And  edges  eastern  clouds  with  rosy  light. 

The  healthy  huntsman,  with  the  cheerful  horn, 

Summons  the  dogs,  and  greets  the  dappled  morn. 

The  jocund  thunder  wakes  the  enliven’d  hounds. 

They  rouse  from  sleep,  and  answer  sounds  for  sounds; 
Wide  through  the  furzy  fields  their  course  they  take. 
Their  bleeding  bosoms  force  the  thorny  brake  : 

The  flying  game  their  smoking  nostrils  trace, 

No  bounding  hedge  obstructs  their  eager  pace. 

The  distant  mountains  echo  from  afar. 

The  hanging  woods  resound  the  flying  war ; 

The  tuneful  noise  the  sprightly  courser  hears. 

Paws  the  green  turf,  and  pricks  his  trembling  ears ; 

The  slacken’d  rein  now  gives  him  all  his  speed. 

Back  flies  the  rapid  ground  beneath  the  steed ; 

Mills,  dales  and  forests,  far  behind  remain. 

While  the  warm  scent  draws  on  the  deep-mouth’d  train. 

Gay’s  Rural  Sports 
Fligh  in  air 

He  waves  his  varied  plumes,  stretching  away 
With  hasty  wing.  Soon  from  the  uplifted  tube 
1’he  mimic  thunder  bursts;  the  leaden  death 


FISHING  HUNTING,  &,c. 


271 


U’ertakes  him,  and  with  many  a giddy  whirl 
To  earth  he  falls,  and  at  my  feet  expires. 

Some  R VILE. 

r genial  spring,  oeneath  the  quiv’ring  shade, 

Where  cooling  vapours  breathe  along  the  mead, 

The  patient  fisher  takes  his  silent  stand. 

Intent,  his  angle  trembling  in  his  hand : 

With  looks  unmov’d  he  hopes  the  scaly  breed. 

And  eyes  the  dancing  cork  and  bending  reed. 

Pope’s  Windsor  Foust. 

Ye  vig’rous  swains ! while  youth  ferments  your  blood, 

And  purer  spirits  swell  the  sprightly  flood. 

Now  range  the  hills,  the  gameful  woods  beset. 

Wind  the  shrill  horn,  or  spread  the  waving  net 
When  milder  autumn  summer’s  heat  succeeds. 

And  in  the  new-shorn  field  the  partridge  feeds. 

Before  his  lord  the  ready  spaniel  bounds. 

Panting  with  hope,  he  tries  the  furrow’d  grounds ; 

But  when  the  tainted  gales  the  game  betray. 

Couch’d  close  he  lies,  and  meditates  the  prey ; 

Secure  they  trust  th’  unfaithful  field  beset. 

Till,  hovering  o’er  them,  sweeps  the  swelling  net. 

Pope’s  Windsor  Forest. 

He  thought,  at  heart,  like  courtly  Chesterfield, 

Who,  after  a long  chase  o’er  hills,  dales,  bushes. 

And  what  not,  though  he  rode  beyond  all  price. 

Ask’d  next  day  “ if  men  ever  hunted  twice  ?” 

Byron’s  Bon  Jum\ 

— With  a swimmer’s  stroke 
l^linging  the  billows  back  from  my  drench’d  hair. 

And  laughing  from  my  lip  the  audacious  brine. 

Which  kiss’d  it  li^e  a wine-cup,  rising  o’er 
I'he  waves  as  they  arose,  and  prouder  still 
I’lie  loftier  they  uplifted  me. 


Byron  s Two  Foscan. 


272 


FLaG  - FLA7  I'ER y.  See. 


FLAG.  — ,See  Banner.) 


FLATTERY  — SYCOPHANT  — PRAISE 

Or  who  would  ever  care  to  do  brave  deed, 

Or  strive  in  virtue  others  to  excel, 

If  none  should  yield  him  his  deserved  meed, 

Due  praise,  that  is  the  spur  of  doing  well  ? 

For  if  good  were  not  praised  more  than  ill. 

None  would  choose  goodness  of  his  own  free  will. 

Spenser 

That,  sir,  which  serves  and  seeks  for  gain, 

And  follows  but  for  form. 

Will  pack  when  it  begins  to  rain. 

And  leave  thee  in  the  storm. 

Shakspeare 

He  would  not  flatter  Neptune  for  his  trident ; 

Or  Jove  for  his  power  to  thunder. 

Shakspeare 

Y^ou  play  the  spaniel, 

And  think  with  wagging  of  your  tongue  to  win  me, 

Shakspeare 

Of  all  wild  bt  asts,  preserve  me  from  a tyrant  ; 

And  of  all  tame — a flatterer. 

Ben  Jonson. 

The  f rmest  purpose  of  a woman’s  heart 
To  well-tim’d,  artful  flattery  may  yield. 

Lillo. 

*T  is  an  old  maxim  in  the  schools. 

That  flattery ’s  the  food  of  fools. 

Yet,  now  and  then,  your  men  of  wit 
Wih  condescmid  to  take  a bit. 


Swift 


flattery  - SYCOPHANT  - PR  A ISE. 


2 


xViinds, 

By  nature  great,  are  conscious  of  their  greatness, 

And  hold  il  mean  to  borrow  aught  from  flattery. 

Rt/ws, 

My  soul  is  open  to  the  charms  of  praise : 

There  is  no  joy  beyond  it,  when  the  mind 
Of  him  who  hears  it  can,  with  honest  pride, 

Confess  it  just,  and  listen  to  its  music. 

Whitehead’s  Roman  Father 
Cn  praising  Chloris,  moon,  and  stars,  and  skies. 

Are  quickly  made  to  match  her  face  and  eyes  ; 

And  oold  and  rubies,  with  as  little  care. 

To  fit  the  colour  of  her  lips  and  hair; 

And  mixing  suns,  and  flowers,  and  pearls  and  stones. 
Make  them  seem  all  complexions  at  once. 

Butler 

For  praise,  that ’s  due,  does  give  no  more 
To  worth  than  what  it  had  before ; 

But,  to  commend  without  desert. 

Requires  a mastery  of  art, 

That  sets  a glass  on  what ’s  amiss. 

And  says  what  should  be,  not  v/hat  is. 

BuTn.ER 

The  love  of  praise,  howe’er  conceal’d  by  art. 

Reigns,  more  or  less,  and  glows  in  every  heart ; 

The  proud,  to  gain  it,  toils  on  toils  endure, 

The  modes'  shun  it,  but  to  make  it  sure. 

Young’s  Love  of  Fame, 

Of  praise  a mere  glutton,  he  swallow’d  what  came, 

And  the  puff  of  a dunce,  he  mistook  it  f^r  fame ; 

Till,  his  relish  grown  callous  almost  to  disease, 

Who  pepper’d  the  highest,  was  surest  to  please. 

Goldsmith’s  Retaliittion, 

A flattering  painter,  who  made  it  his  care 

To  draw  men  as  they  ought  to  be,  not  as  they  are. 

Goldsmith’s  Retaliation 

u 


4 


tXAT  I’ERY  - SYCOPTJ/VN'r  - PRAISK. 


To  hear  his  soothing  tales,  she  feigns  delays; 

What  woman  can  resist  the  force  of  praise  ? 

Gay’s  T^  ivut 


Methinks  you  ’re  over-nice  : 

True  ; flattery  is  a shocking  vice  ; 

Yet,  sure,  whene’er  the  praise  is  just, 

One  may  commend  without  distrust. 

Gay’s  Dibks 

Long,  open  panegyric  drags  at  best. 

And  praise  is  only  praise  when  well  addrest. 

Gay’s  Ephtltt^ 

But  flattery  never  seems  absurd  ; 

The  flatter’d  always  takes  your  word 
Impossibilities  seem  just. 

They  take  the  strongest  praise  on  trust ; 

Hyperboles,  tho’  ne’er  so  great. 

Will  still  come  short  of  self-conceit. 

Gay’s  Fables, 


The  villain’s  censure  is  extorted  praise. 


Pope. 


Praise  of  the  wise  and  good  ! — it  is  a meed 
For  which  I woum  long  years  of  toil  endure — 

Which  many  a peril,  many  a grief,  would  cure. 

Sir  E.  Brydges. 

Oh  ! It  is  worse  than  mockery  to  list  the  flatt’rer’s  tone. 

To  lend  a ready  ear  to  thoughts  the  cheek  must  blush  to 
own, — 

To  hear  the  red  lip  whisper’d  of,  and  the  flowing  curl,  and 
eye, 

Made  constant  theme  of  eulogy  extravagant  and  high — 
And  the  charm  o{ peraoyi  worshipp’d,  in  an  homage  oik  r’d 
not 

To  the  perfect  charm  of  virtue,  and  the  majesty  of  thought 

J.  G.  Whittier, 


FLOWRRS-FRLTITb. 


27 


Oh  ! when  the  breath  of  flattery  is  warm  upDn  thine  ear, 
And  manly  brows  are  bending  in  humble  suppliance  near, 
May  no  dream  of  tenderness  arise,  which  earth  may  not 
fulfil, 

And  no  fountain  open  in  thy  heart,  which  Time  hath 
power  to,  chill ! 

J.  G.  Whittier. 


FLOWERS  — FRUITS. 


Sweet  garland  wreaths 
Of  pansies,  pinks,  and  gaudy  daffodils. 

Milton’s  Corrais. 

Where  peaches  glow  with  sunny  dyes, 

Like  maidens’  cheeks  when  blushes  rise  ; 

Where  with  huge  figs  the  branches  bend, 

Where  clusters  from  the  vine  distend. 

Gay’s  Fahhs^ 

Here,  scatter’d  wild,  the  lily  of  the  vale 

Its  balmy  essence  breathes  ; here  cowslips  hang 

Their  dewy  heads,  and  purple  violets  lurk. 

With  all  the  lowly  children  of  the  shade. 

Thomson. 

Where  opening  roses  breathing  sweets  diffuse, 

And  soft  carnations  shower  their  balmy  dews ; 

Where  lilies  smi.e  in  virgin  robes  of  white, 

The  thin  undress  of  sup  jrficial  light ; 

And  varied  tulips  show  so  dazzling  gay, 

Blushing  in  bright  diversities  of  day. 

Pope 


She  looks  as  clear 
As  morning  roses,  newly  wash’d  in  dew. 

SllAKSFE  AllF 

The  fragrant  orange^  with  bright  golden  rind. 

Somervjle’s  Cfia.st, 


276 


FLOWERS  FRUri’*' 


The  hardy  nuty  in  solid  mail  secure, 

Impregnable  to  winter’s  frosts,  repays 
Its  hoarder’s  care. 

So]viERviLr:’s  IfobbinoL 
The  cocoa's  root, 

Which  bears  at  once  the  cup,  and  mijk,  and  fruit 

B\  Ron’s  Island 

The  little  flow’rets  raise  their  heads. 

And  bloom  as  gaily  on  the  grave, 

As  if  reposing  on  such  beds 

As  Natur""  to  her  children  gave. 

Richmond  Republican 

A violet  by  a mossy  stone', 

Half  hidden  from  the  eye, 

Fair  as  a star,  when  onb^  one 
Is  shining  in  the  sky. 

Words  WORT  JL 

Like  sweet  thoughts  that  come 
Wing’d  from  the  maiden  fancy,  and  fly  off 
In  music  to  the  skies,  and  then  are  lost. 

These  ever-steaming  odours  seek  the  sun, 

And  fade  in  the  light  he  scatters. 

Barry  Cornwall 

In  Eastern  lands  they  talk  in  flowers. 

And  they  tell  in  a garland  their  loves  and  cares ; 

Each  blossom  that  blooms  in  their  garden  bowers, 

On  its  leaves  a mystic  language  bears. 

J.  G.  Percival 

The  evergreen  stern  Winter’s  power  derides, 

Like  hope,  that  in  misfortune’s  storm  abides. 

Ves,  lovel}^  flower,  1 find  in  thee 

Wild  sweetness  which  no  words  express. 

And  chirrns  in  thy  simplicity 

That  dwell  not  in  the  pride  of  dress. 


Langhornb, 


FOLLY  . FOOLS 


277 


There  is  to  me 

A.  daintiness  about  these  earl)^  flowers, 

That  touches  me  like  poetry.  They  blow  out 
With  such  a simple  loveliness  among 
The  common  herbs  of  pastures,  and  breathe 
Their  lives  so  unobtrusively,  like  hearts 
Whose  beatings  are  too  gentle  for  the  worla. 

N.  P Willi* 

Oh ! the  flowers  look  upward  in  ever}^  place. 

Through  this  beautiful  world  of  ours, 

And,  dear  as  a smile  on  an  old  friend’s  face, 

Is  the  smile  ot  the  bright,  bright  flowers  ! 


FOLLY  — FOOLS. 

This  fellow ’s  wise  enough  to  play  the  fool , 

And,  to  do  that  well,  craves  a kind  of  wit. 

Shakspeare. 

He  who  digs  hills  because  they  do  aspire, 

Throws  down  one  mountain,  to  cast  up  a higher. 

Shakspeare. 

To  gild  refined  gold,  to  paint  the  lily, 

To  throw  a perfume  on  the  violet. 

To  smooth  the  ice,  or  add  another  hue 
Unto  the  rainbow. 

Shakspeare, 

Man,  proud  man, 

Dress’d  in  a little  brief  authority. 

Most  ignorant  of  what  he ’s  most  assur’d, — 
riis  glossy  essence — like  an  angry  ape — 

Plays  such  fantastic  tricks,  before  high  heaven, 

As  makes  the  angels  weep. 

Shakspeare 

Let  our  frail  thoughts  dally  with  false  surmise. 


Milton 


278 


FOLLY  - FOOI.S. 


*T  is  strange  there  should  such  difTerence  be 
'Twixt  tweedle-dum  and  tweed le-dce. 

Butler’s  Hudihrai 
When  civil  dudgeon  first  grew  high, 

And  men  fell  out,  they  knew  not  why ; 

When  hard  words,  jealousies,  and  fears. 

Set  men  together  by  the  ears. 

Butler’s  Hudihrai. 
Two  things  so  averse,  they  never  yet 
But  in  thy  rambling  fancy  met. 

Butler’s  Hudihrai. 

For  many  a lad  returns  from  school 
A Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew  fool ; 

In  arts  and  knowledge  still  a block, 

Tho’  deeply  skill’d  in  Aic,  hoc, 

Pattison 

Nothing  exceeds  in  ridicule,  no  doubt, 

A fool  in  fashion,  but  a fool  that ’s  out ; 

His  passion  for  absurdity’s  so  strong. 

He  cannot  bear  a rival  in  the  wrong. 

Though  wrong  the  mode,  comply : more  sense  is  shown 
In  wearing  others’  follies  than  our  own. 

Young. 

’T  is  not  in  folly  not  to  scorn  a fool. 

And  scarce  in  human  wisdom  to  do  more. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts, 
Men  may  live  fools,  but  fools  they  cannot  die  ! 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts, 
Some  positive,  persisting  fops  we  know. 

Who,  f once  wrong,  will  needs  be  always  so ; 

But  you  with  pleasure  own  your  errors  past, 

And  make  each  day  a critique  on  the  last. 

Pope 


Fur  fools  rush  in  where  angels  fear  to  tread. 


Pope. 


FOOLS  - FORGETFUI.NESS,  6cc. 


279 


Who  perhaps  to  the  surnriiit  of  science  might  soar, 
Content  if  “ the  tablj  he  set  in  a roar.” 

Goldsmith’s  Beialtalion 
Whose  genius  was  such, 

We  scarcely  could  praise  him,  or  blame  him,  too  much  ; 
Who,  born  for  the  universe,  ilarrow’d  his  mind, 

And  to  party  gave  up  what  was  meant  for  mankind. 

Goldsmith’s  Jietaliatic'i. 
Like  an  ill-judging  beauty,  his  colours  he  spread. 

And  bespatter’d  with  rouge  his  own  natural  red. 

Goldsmith’s  Retaliation. 
He  cast  off  his  friends  as  a huntsman  his  pack, 

For  he  knew,  when  he  wish’d,  he  could  whistle  them  back. 

Goldsmith’s  Retaliation. 
And  idle  jests,  untimely  spoken. 

The  lend’rest  ties  have  often  broken. 


Explaining  metaphysics  to  the  nation — 

I wish  he  would  explain  his  explanation. 

Byron 


FOOLS.  — (See  Folly.) 


FORGETFULNESS — OBLIVION. 

{ ’ve  touch’c  the  highest  point  of  all  my  greatness ; 

And  from  the  full  meridian  of  my  glory 
I haste  now  to  my  setting.  I shall  fall 
Like  a bright  exhalation  in  the  evening, 

A.ud  no  man  see  me  more  ! 

Shakspeaer 


The  swallowing  gulf 
Of  dark  oblivion  and  deep  despair. 


Shakspeare 


280 


FORGET  ME  N >T. 


’T  i far  of! ; 

And  rather  like  a dream,  ttian  an  assurance 
That  my  remembrance  warrants. 

Shaksfearb 


Thus  peaceful  rests,  without  a stone,  a name. 
What  once  had  beauty,  tit^,  wealth  and  fame. 

Unwept,^nhonour’d,  and  unsung. 

’T  is  infamy  to  die,  and  not  be  miss’d. 

Carlos 


Pgfk 

ScorT 

Wilcox 


Let  not  a death,  unwept,  unhonour’d,  be 
The  melancholy  fate  allotted  me  ! 

But  those  who  love  me  living,  when  I die, 

Still  fondly  keep  some  cherish’d  memory. 

From  Solon. 


FORGET  ME  NOT. 

Forget  me  not,  when  others  gaze 
Enamour’d  on  thee  with  the  looks  of  praise ; 

When  weary  leagues  between  us  both  are  cast, 

And  each  dull  hour  seems  heavier  than  the  last — 

Oh  ! then  forget  me  not  ! 

Think  of  him  whose  prayers  shall  bless  thee ; 

Think  of  him  thy  love  had  bless’d. 

Byron. 

Oh  ! think  of  her  who  holds  thee  dear, 

And  think  that  thou  art  all  to  her ! 

Byron 

May  joy  thy  steps  attend. 

And  mayst  thou  find  in  every  form  a friend ; 

Witli  care  insulli^d  be  thy  every  thought. 

And  in  thy  dreanis  of  home,  forget  me  not ! 


FOKGIVEI^ESS- MERCY,  &c. 


281 


'Fhough  we  should  meet  no  more,  sweet  maid, 

Forget  me  not. 

Kenr.ember  thee,  and  all  thy  pains. 

And  all  thy  love  for  me  ! 

Yes  1 while  a pulse,  a breath  remains. 

Will  I remember  thee  ! 

MoNTGO.MEKy. 

Each  dew-drop,  on  its  morning  leaves. 

Is  eloquent  as  tears. 

That  whisper,  when  young  passion  grieves 
For  one  belov’d  afar,  and  weaves 
His  dream  of  hopes  and  fears. 

Forget  me  not ! 

Fitz-green  Halleck. 


FORGIVENESS  — MERCY  — PITY,  &c. 

And  but  to  speaken  of  her  conscience, 

She  was  so  charitable  and  so  piteous. 

She  would  weep  an  that  she  but  saw  a mouse 
Caught  in  a trap,  if  it  were  dead  or  bled. 

Chaucer. 

The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strain’d  ; 

It  droppeth  as  the  gentle  devv  from  heaven 
Upon  the  place  beneath.  It  is  twice  bless’ d : 

It  blesses  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes. 

Shakspeare. 

’Tis  mightiest  in  the  mighty  ; it  becomes 
The  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown. 

Shakspearr 

Though  justice  be  thy  plea,  consider  this — 

That  in  the  course  of  justice,  none  of  us 
Should  see  salvation  : we  do  pray  for  mercy  ; 

And  that  same  prayer  doth  teach  us  all  to  render 
Phe  deeds  f mercy. 


Shakspeare. 


282 


F0R(^IVEM:SS  - mercy,  Alc. 


I 


KiresX  souls  lorgive  not  injuries  iiil  lime 
lias  put  their  enemies  into  their  power, 

That  they  may  show  forgiveness  in  thei.  own. 

iNature  has  cast  me  in  so  soft  a mould, 

That,  but  to  hear  a story,  feign’d  for  pleasure, 
Of  some  sad  lover’s  death,  moistens  my  eyes 
And  robs  me  of  my  manhood. 

Thy  narrow  soul 

Knows  not  the  God-like  glory  of  forgiving; 
Nor  can  thy  cold,  thy  ruthless  heart  conceive 
How  large  the  power,  how  fix’d  the  empire  is, 
Which  benefits  confer  on  generous  minds. 


Drydpji 


Dryden. 


Rowe. 


The  greatest  attribute  of  heaven  is  mercy, 

And ’t  is  the  crown  of  justice,  and  the  glory. 

Where  it  may  kill  with  right,  to  save  with  pity. 

Bbaumont  and  Fletcher. 
He,  that  is  merciful 
Unto  the  bad,  is  cruel  to  the  good. 

Randolph 


Those  moving  tears  will  quite  dissolve  my  frame ; 

They  melt  the  soul  which  threats  could  never  shake. 

• Higgons 


A generous  warmth  opens  the  hero’s  soul. 

And  soft  compassion  flows  where  courage  dwells. 

C.  Johnson 

The  generous  heart 

Should  scorn  a pleasure  which  gives  others  pain. 

Thomson 

Great  conquerors  greater  glory  gain 
By  foes  in  triumph  led  than  slain ; 

The  laurels  that  adorn  their  brows, 

Aire  pull’d  from  living,  not  dead,  I Dughs. 

Butler’b  Huiilra9. 


FORGIVENESS- MERCY  &c. 


28 


Young  men  soon  give,  and  soon  forget  affronts, 

Old  age  is  slow  in  both. 

o 

Addison’s  Cato 
Yet  oh ! when  thou  shall  die, 

May  death  be  mild  as  thou  art  cruel  now ; 

And  may  thy  beauties  gently  sink  to  earth, 

While  circling  angels  waft  thee  to  repose  ! 

Nat.  Lee. 

Man  may  dismiss  compassion  from  his  heart, 

But  God  will  never. 

Cowper’s  Task, 

The  truly  brave  are  soft  of  heart  and  eyes, 

And  feel  for  what  their  duty  bids  them  do. 

Byron’s  Marino  Faliero. 
Pity ! is  it  pity  to  recall  to  feeling 
The  wretch  too  happy  to  escape  to  death 
By  the  compassionate  trance,  poor  nature’s  last 
Resource  against  the  tyranny  of  pain  ? 

Byron’s  Two  Foscari, 
Go  to— you  are  a child, 

Infirm  of  feeling  and  of  purpose,  blown 
About  by  every  breath,  shook  by  a sigh 
And  melted  by  a tear — a precious  judge. 

Byron’s  Two  Foscari 

Wi'h  tears  for  nought  but  others’  ills ; 

And  then  they  flow’d  like  mountain  rills. 

Unless  he:  could  assuage  their  woe. 

Byron’s  Prisoner  of  Chillon 
Hate  shuts  her  soul  when  dove-ey’d  Mercy  pleads. 

Charles  Sprague 

Forgive  and  forget ! — why  the  world  would  be  lonely. 

The  garden  a wilderness  left  to  deform. 

If  the  flowers  but  remember’d  the  chilling  winds  only. 

An  1 the  fields  gave  no  verdure  for  fear  of  the  storm. 

Charles  Swaik 


284 


FORTITUDE -FORTUNE,  A.o, 


FORTITUDE.  — (See  Bravert.i 


FORTUN  E.  — (See  Chance.) 


FRANKNESS  — INGENUOUSNESS. 

And  the  soft  language;  of  the  soul 
Flov/’d  from  her  never-silent  eye. 

CaRTWRI  JK? 

How  eloquent  in  every  look — 

Thro’  her  expressive  eyes,  her  soul  distinctly  spoke. 

' Lord  Lyttlkton 

Whate’er  the  emotions  of  her  heart, 

Still  shone  conspicuous  in  her  eyes — 

Stranger  to  every  female  art, 

Alike  to  feign,  or  to  disguise. 

Shaw 

Heart  on  her  lips,  and  soul  within  her  eyes. 

Bvron. 

If  tenderness  touch’d  her,  the  dark  of  her  eye 
At  once  took  a darker,  a heavenlier  dye. 

From  the  depth  of  whose  shadow,  like  holy  revealings, 
From  the  innermost  shrine,  came  the  light  of  her  feelings. 

Moors 


FREEDOM  — LIBERTY. 

Oh  ! give  me  liberty  ! 

For  were  evm  Paradise  my  prison, 

StiL  I should  long  to  lea[)  the  crystal  walls. 


DRYI'iiS 


tliEEDOM  - LIBERTY. 


285 


Oil,  Liberty  ! thou  goddess  heavenly  bright ! 

Profuse  of  bliss,  and  pregnant  with  delight! 

Eternal  pleasures  in  thy  presence  reign, 

And  smiling  Plenty  leads  thy  wanton  train. 

Addison ’s  Italy, 

A day,  an  hour  of  virtuous  liberty, 

Is  worth  a whole  eternity  of  bondage. 

Addison’s  Cato, 

The  greatest  glory  of  a free-born  people, 

Is  to  transmit  that  freedom  to  their  children. 

Havard 

But  slaves,  that  once  conceive  the  glowing  thought 

Of  freedom,  in  that  hope  itself  possess 

All  that  the  contest  calls  for  ; — spirit,  strength. 

The  scorn  of  danger,  and  united  hearts, 

The  surest  presage  of  the  good  they  seek. 

Cowper’s  Task 

’T  is  liberty  alone  that  gives  the  flowers 
Of  fleeting  life  their  lustre  and  perfume. 

And  we  are  weeds  without  it. 

Cowper’s  Task 

Ea  sier  were  it 

To  hurl  the  rooted  mountain  from  its  base, 

Than  force  the  yoke  of  slavery  upon  men 
Determin’d  to  be  free. 

SoUTHE'fr. 

We  will  not  oe  the  traitor  slaves, 

Whi  c heaven  has  light,  or  earth  has  graves. 


Go,  tame  the  wild  torrent,  or  stem  with  a straw 

"I’he  proud  surges  that  sweep  o’er  the  sands  that  confirdd 
them  ; 

But  presume  not  again  to  give  Freemen  a law. 

Or  think,  with  the  chains  they  have  broken,  to  bind  them 


FREEDOM  - LIBERTY. 


By  the  hope  within  us  springing, 

Herald  of  to-morrow’s  strife ; 

By  that  sun,  whose  light  is  bringing 
Chains  or  freedom,  death  or  life — 

Oh ! remember,  life  can  be 
No  charm  for  him  who  lives  not  free  ! 

MooRi. 

And  Oh ! if  there  be,  on  this  earthly  sphere 
A boon,  an  offering  Fleaven  holds  dear, 

’T  is  the  last  libation  Liberty  draws 

From  the  heart  that  bleeds,  and  breaks  in  her  cause ! 

Moore’s  Lalla  Rookh, 

I’ho’  too  true  to  themselves  e’er  to  crouch  to  oppression, 
Who  can  yield  to  just  rule  a more  loyal  submission  ? 

Hon.  W.  Gaston. 

Who  would  be  free,  themselves  must  strike  the  blow. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 
For  Freedom’s  battle,  oft  begun. 

Bequeath’d  from  bleeding  sire  to  son, 

Tho’  baffled  oft,  is  ever  won. 

Byron’s  Giaour, 

Brightest  in  dungeons.  Liberty  ! thou  art. 

For  then  thy  habitation  is  the  heart ! 

Byron’s  Prisoner  of  Chilian. 

Should  a conqueror  tread*  on  our  forefathers’  dust, 
it  would  wake  the  old  bones  from  their  graves. 

Campbeli. 

Those  sacred  rights  to  which  themselves  were  born. 

Akenside, 

Oh,  Liberty ! can  man  resign  thee^ 

Once  having  felt  thy  generous  flame  ? 

Can  dungeons,  bolts,  and  bars  connne  thee. 

Or  whips  thy  noble  spirit  tame  ? 


Marseilles  Hymn, 


FRIENDSHIP. 


287 


FRIENDSHIP. 

Friendship  is  constant  in  all  other  things, 

Save  in  the  office  and  affairs  of  love : 

Therefore,  all  hearts  in  love  use  their  own  tongues ; 

Let  every  eye  negotiate  for  itself. 

And  trust  no  agent. 

Shakspeare. 

Thou  dost  conspire  against  thj  friend,  lago, 

If  thou  but  think’st  him  wrong’d,  and  mak’st  his  ear 
A stranger  to  thy  thoughts. 

Shakspeare. 

A friend  should  bear  his  friend’s  infirmities. 

Shakspeare, 

Who  shall  compare  love’s  mean  and  gross  desire 
To  the  chaste  zeal  of  friendship’s  sacred  fire  ? 

Love  is  a sudden  blaze  which  soon  decays 
Friendship  is  like  the  sun’s  eternal  rays ; 

Not  daily  benefits  exhaust  the  flame, 

It  still  is  giving,  and  still  burns  the  same. 

Gay’s  Dione. 

The  joys  of  friendship, — 

The  trust,  security,  and  mutual  tenderness. 

The  double  joys,  when  both  are  glad  for  both ; 

Our  only  wealth,  our  last  retreat  and  strength, 

Secure  against  all  fortune  and  the  world. 

Row?.. 

i Friendship  above  all  ties  does  bind  the  heart, 

And  faith  in  friendship  is  tlie  noblest  part. 

Lord  Orrkkv 

First  on  thy  friend  deliberate  with  thyself ; 

Pause,  ponder,  sift ; not  eager  in  the  choice, 

Nor  jealous  of  the  chosen  : fixing,  fix  ; — 

Judge  before  friendship,  then  confide  till  death. 

Young’s  Nis^ht  Thon^fiia 


‘288 


KRIENDSIIIf . 


Hope  not  to  find 

A friend,  but  what  has  found  a friend  in  thee ; 

All  like  the  purchase,  few  the  price  will  pay  ; 

And  this  makes  friends  such  miracles  below. 

Young’s  Night  Thouj^nti 
The  friendships  of  the  world  are  oft 
Confed’racies  in  vice,  or  leagues  in  pleasure. 

Addison’s  Calc 

Friendship  ! mysterious  cement  of  the  soul ! 

Sweet’ner  of  life,  and  solder  of  society, 

I owe  thee  much  ! thou  hast  deserv’d  of  me 
Far,  far  beyond  what  1 can  ('ver  pay. 

Blair’s  Grave. 

And  what  is  friendship  but  a name. 

A charm  that  lulls  to  sleep? — 

A sound  that  follows  wealth  and  fame. 

But  leaves  the  wretch  to  weep. 

Goldsmith’s  Hermit. 

Friendship  is  not  a plant  of  hasty  growth ; 

Though  planted  in  esteem’s  deep  fixed  soil. 

The  gradual  culture  of  kind  intercourse 
Must  bring  it  to  perfection. 

Joanna  Railiie 

J'hou  art  the  friend. 

To  whom  the  shadows  of  long  years  extend. 

Byron’s  Child e Harold 
Though  human,  thou  didst  not  deceive  me, 

Thouorh  woman,  thou  didst  not  forsake. 

Though  lov’d,  thou  forborest  to  grieve  rne. 

Though  slander’d,  thou  never  couldst  shake 
Though  trusted,  thou  didst  not  disclaim  me, 

Though  parted,  it  was  not  to  fly, 

H’hough  watchful,  ’t  was  not  to  defame  me, 

Nor  mute,  that  the  world  might  belie. 


Kyropj 


FRIENDSHIP. 


289 


Re,  who,  malignant,  tears  an  absent  friend, 

Or,  when  attack’d  by  others,  don’t  defend. 

Who  friendship’s  secrets  knows  not  to  conceal — 

That  man  is  vile. 

Francis’  llorace. 

A generous  friendship  no  cold  medium  knows, 

E^uriis  4ith  one  warmth,  with  one  resentment  glows; 

One  must  our  union,  our  resentment  be. 

My  friend  must  hate  the  man  who  injures  me. 


How  much  to  be  priz’d  and  esteem’d  is  a friend. 

On  whom  we  can  always  with  safety  depend  ! 

Our  joys,  when  extended,  will  always  increase. 

And  griefs,  when  divided,  are  hush’d  into  peace. 

Mrs.  Margaret  Smith 

Oh,  friendship  ! thou  balm  and  sweet’ner  of  life  ! 

Kind  parent  of  ease,  and  composer  of  strife ! 

Without  thee,  alas  ! what  are  riches  and  power, 

But  empty  delusions,  the  joy  of  an  hour? 

Mrs.  Margaret  Smith 

When  our  lives 

Were  link’d  in  one,  and  our  young  hearts  bloom’d  out, 
Like  violet  bells  upon  the  self-same  stem. 

Pouring  the  dewy  odours  of  life’s  spring 
Into  ea^h  other’s  bosoms. 

B.  B.  Thatcher. 

Friends  my  soul  with  joy  remembers  ! 

How  like  quivering  flames  they  start, 

When  I fan  the  living  embers 
On  the  hearthstone  of  my  heart ! 

H.  W.  Longfellow 

Ves,  che  summer  of  life  passes  quickly  away, 

Soon  the  winter  of  age  sheds  its  snow  on  the  heart , 

But  the  warm  sun  of  Friendship,  that  gilded  youth’s  day, 
Shall  still  thro’  the  dark  clouds  a soft  ray  impart. 

A GiBBfe. 


19 


290 


FRUITS  - FUNER  A I.,  &.c. 


Sweet  lady,  wilt  hou  think  of  me 

When  Friendshij)’s  flowers  are  round  thee  wreathing, 
And  Love’s  delirious  flattery 

Within  thy  ear  is  soft.y  brf'athing? 

(),  let  my  friendship,  in  the  wreath. 

Though  biu  a bud  among  the  flo\vers. 

Its  sw^eetest  fragrance  round  tlu*e  breathe— 

’T  will  serve  to  soothe  thy  weary  hours. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Wei^bv. 

In  fxl.e  years, — when  thou,  perchance. 

As  thoughts  of  Jlidd  Lang  Syne  arise, 

’Midst  other  scenes  shall  cast  a glance 

o 

Along  these  pages,  should  thine  eyes 
Rest  on  this  tribute — think  of  me — 

Think  kindly,  as  I shall  of  thee. 

J.  T.  Watsok. 


FRUITS.  — (See  Flowers. y 


FUNFRAL  — MOURNING  — WIDOW. 

Do  not  for  ever,  with  thy  veiled  lids, 

Seek  for  thy  noble  father  in  the  dust ; 

Thou  know’st ’t  is  common  ; all  that  live,  must  uie. 

Passing  through  nature  to  eternity. 

Shaksfears.  , 

Why  is  the  hearse  with  ’scutcheons  blazon’d  round, 

And  with  the  nodding  plumes  of  ostrich  crown’d  ? 

No:  the  dead  know  it  not,  nor  profit  gain; 

It  only  serves  to  prove  the  living  vain. 

Gay’s  Trivia. 

They  truly  mourn,  that  mourn  without  a witness. 


Baron. 


Fl^NKRAL  - MOURNING  - WIDOW 


291 


Of  all 

The  fools,  who  flock’d  to  swell  or  see  the  show, 

Who  cared  about  the  corpse  ? The  funeral 
Made  the  attraction,  and  the  black  the  woe. 

Byron’s  Vision  of  Judgmtnt 
Groans  and  convulsions,  and  discolour’d  faces. 

Friends  weeping  round  us,  blacks,  and  obsequies, 

Make  death  a dreadful  thing ; the  pomp  of  death 
Is  far  more  terrible  than  death  itself. 

Nat.  Lek. 

Prone  on  the  lonely  grave  of  the  dear  man 
She  drops ; whilst  busy  meddling  memory, 

In  barbarous  succession,  musters  up 
The  past  enaearments  of  their  softer  hours, 

Tenacious  of  the  theme. 

Blair’s  Grave. 

Thus,  day  by  day,  and  month  by  month,  we  pass’d ; 

It  pleas’d  the  Lord  to  take  my  spouse  at  last. 

I tore  my  gown,  I soil’d  iny  locks  with  dust. 

And  beat  my  breasts — as  wretched  widows  must . 

Before  my  face  my  handkerchief  I spread. 

To  hide  the  flood  of  tears  I did — not  shed. 

Pops 

What  though  no  friends  in  sable  weeds  appear, 

Grieve  for  an  hour,  perhaps,  then  mourn  a year  ? 

And  bear  about  the  mockery  of  woe 
To  midnight  dances,  and  the  public  show ! 

Pope 

Death’s  seneschal ! ’t  is  thine  to  trace 
For  each  his  proper  look  and  place ; 

How  aunts  shouH  weep,  \yhere  uncles  stand. 

With  hostile  cousins,  hand  in  hand  ; 

Give  matchless  gloves,  and  fitly  shape 
By  length  of  face  the  length  of  crape. 

Hon.  N.  Biddle’s  Ode  to  Book. 


292 


FUTURITY. 


See  him  erect,  with  ofty  tread, 

The  dark  scarf  streaming  from  his  head, 

Lead  forth  his  groups,  in  order  meet. 

And  range  them  grief-wise  in  the  street — 

Presiding  o’er  the  solemn  show. 

The  very  Chesterfield  of  woe ! 

Hon.  N.  Biddle's  Ode  to  liogU 
Let  widows,  anxious  to  fulfil 
(For  the  first  time)  the  dear  man’s  will, 

Lovers  and  lawyers  ill  at  ease. 

For  bliss  deferr’d,  or  loss  of  fees. 

Or  heirs,  impatient  of  delay. 

Chafe  inly  at  his  formal  stay 
The  Bogle  heeds  rot : firm  and  true. 

Resolv’d  10  give  the  dead  his  due. 

No  jot  of  honour  will  he  bate. 

Nor  stir  towards  the  church-yard  gatt> 

Till  the  last  person  is  at  hand. 

And  every  hat  has  got  its  band. 

Hon.  N.  Biddle’s  Ode  to  Bogh, 
Ere  death  had  quite  stricken  the  bloom  from  her  cheek. 

Or  worn  off  the  smoothness  and  gloss  of  her  brow. 
When  our  quivering  lips  her  dear  name  could  not  speak. 
And  our  hearts  vainly  strove  to  God’s  judgment  to  bow, 
He  estrang’d  himself  from  us,  and  cheerfully  then 
Sought  out  a new'  object,  and  wedded  again. 

J.  H.  Bright. 

Nature  doth  mourn  for  thee.  There  is  no  need 
For  man  to  strike  his  plaintive  lyre  and  fail, 

As  fail  he  must  if  he  attempts  thy  praise. 

Mrs.  L.  H.  SiGOiiUNEir 


FUTURITY.  — (See  Eternity.) 


GAMBLING  - GENIUS  - TALENT. 


293 


GAjVIBLING.  — (See  Betting.) 


GENIUS  — TALENT. 

Time,  place,  and  action,  may  with  pains  be  wrought, 

But  genius  must  be  born,  and  never  can  be  taught. 

Dryden. 

One  science  only  will  one  genius  fit. 

So  vast  is  art,  so  narrow  human  wit : 

Like  kings,  we  lose  the  conquests  gain’d  before, 

By  vain  ambition  still  to  make  them  more. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism. 
Talents  angel-bright. 

If  wanting  worth,  are  shining  instruments 
In  false  ambition’s  hand,  to  finish  faults 
Illustrious,  and  give  infamy  renown. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 
I live  not  like  the  many  of  my  kind  ; 

Mine  is  a world  of  feelings  and  of  fancies  ; 

Fancies,  whose  rainbow-empire  is  the  mind — 

Feelings,  that  realize  their  own  romances. 

' Miss  L.  E.  Landon. 
For  genius  swells  more  strong  and  clear 
When  close  confin’d — like  bottled  beer. 

Trumbull’s  McFin^aL 
The  lamp  of  genius,  tho’  by  nature  lit. 

If  not  protected,  prun’d,  and  fed  with  care. 

Soon  dies,  or  runs  to  waste  with  fitful  glare. 

Carlos  Wilcox 

He  drev  his  light  from  that  he  was  amidst. 

As  doth  a lamp  from  air  which  hath  itself 
Matter  of  light,  altho’  it  show  it  not. 


Bailey's  Festi.s^ 


4 


GENTLEMAN. 


Wax  to  receive,  and  marble  to  retain 

Byron’s  Beppo 

What  made  more  sad  the  outward  form’s  decay, 

A soul  of  Genius  glimmer’d  thro’  the  clay  : 

Genius  has  so  much  youth  no  care  can  kill. 

Death  seems  unnatural  when  it  sighs  “ Be  still.” 

The  New  I'vvnn, 

Creative  Genius ! from  thy  hand 
What  shapes  of  order,  beauty,  rise, 

When  waves  thy  potent,  mystic  wand 
To  people  ocean,  earth  and  skies 

H.  M’Ilvane. 


GENTLEMAN. 

He  that  bears  himself  like  a gentleman 
Is  worth  to  have  been  born  a gentleman. 

Chapman. 

Measure  not  thy  carriage  by  any  man’s  eye, 

Thy  speech  by  no  man’s  ear ; be  resolute 
And  confident  in  saying  and  in  doing ; 

This  is  the  grace  of  a right  gentleman. 

Chapman. 

I read  no  difference  between  this  huge. 

This  monstrous  big  word,  lord,  and  gentleman. 

More  than  the  title  sounds ; for  aught  I learn. 

The  latter  is  as  noble  as  the  first : 

1 ’m  sure  more  ancient. 

John  Ford. 

The  general  voice 

Sounds  him  for  courtesy,  behaviour,  language, 

And  every  fair  demeanour,  an  example : 

Titles  of  honour  add  not  to  his  worth. 

Who  h himself  an  honour  to  his  title. 


John  Ford. 


GHOST  - SUPERSTITION 


29 


Tho’  modest.,  on  tis  unembarrass’d  brow 
Nature  had  written  “Gentleman.” 

Byron’s  Bon  Juan. 


GHOST  — SUPERSTITION. 

Angels  and  ministers  of  grace,  defend  us  ! — 

Be  thou  a spirit  of  health,  or  goblin  damn’d. 

Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven,  or  blasts  from  hell, 

Be  thy  intents  wicked  or  charitable. 

Thou  comest  in  such  questionable  shape 
That  I will  speak  to  thee. 

SllAKSPEARE. 

Avaunt ! and  quit  my  sight ! let  the  earth  hide  thee  ! 

Thy  bones  are  marrowless,  thy  blood  is  cold ; 

Thou  hast  no  speculation  in  those  eyes. 

Which  thou  dost  glare  with! 

SlIAKSPEARR 

I can  call  up  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep. — 

. Why  so  can  1,  or  so  can  any  man  ; 

But  will  they  come,  when  you  do  call  for  them  ? 

Shakspeare 

A thousand  fantasies 
Begin  to  throng  into  my  memory, 

Of  calling  shapes,  and  beckoning  shadows  dire. 

And  air}  tongues  that  syllable  men’s  names. 

And  sands,  and  shores,  and  desert  wildernesses. 

Milton’s  Comus 

They  gather  round,  and  wonder  at  the  tale 
Of  horrid  apparition,  tall  and  ghostly. 

That  walks  at  dead  of  night,  or  takes  his  stand 
O’er  some  new-open’d  grave,  and  (strange  to  tell,) 
Evanishes  at  crowing  of  the  cock. 

Blair’s  Grate 

For  spirits,  freed  from  mortal  laws,  with  ease 
Assume  what  sexes  and  what  shapes  they  please 


Hope. 


296 


GHOST  - SUPERSTITION. 


Matrons  who  toss  the  cup,  and  see 
The  grounds  of  fate  in  grounds  of  tea. 

Churc  HlIX 

A horrid  spectre  rises  to  my  sight, 

Close  by  my  side,  and  plain  and  palpable, 

In  all  good  seeming  and  close  circumstance, 

As  man  meets  man. 

Joanna  BaiLlir 

’T  is  a history 

Handed  from  ages  down ; a nurse’s  tale, 

Which  children,  open-ey’d  and  mouth’d,  devour 
And  thus,  as  garrulous  ignorance  relates 
We  learn  it  and  believe 

Southey’s  Thalaba. 

An  undelin’d  and  sudden  thrill. 

That  makes  the  heart  a moment  still — 

Then  beat  with  quicker  pulse,  asham’d 
Of  that  strange  sense  its  silence  fram’d. 

* Byron’s  Siege  oj  Corinth, 

He  shudder’d,  as  no  doubt  the  bravest  cowers 
When  he  can’t  tell  what ’t  is  that  doth  appal. 

How  odd  a single  hobgoblin’s  nonentity 

Should  cause  more  fear  than  a whole  host’s  identity  i 

Byron’s  Bon  Juan 
Grim  reader ! did  you  ever  see  a ghost  ? 

Byron’s  Don  Juayi 

And  not  in  vain  he  listen’d  : Hush  ! — what’s  that  ? 

1 see — I see — Ah  no  ! ’t  is  not —yet ’t  is — 

Ye  powers  ! it  is  the — the — the — Pooh  ! tfie  cat! 

The  devil  may  take  that  stealthy  pace  of  his  ! 

Byron’s  Doyy  Juan 

Of  clanking  fetters — low,  mysterious  groans — 
Blood-crusted  daggers,  and  uncolfin’d  bones — 

I'ale  gliding  ghosts,  with  fingers  dropping  gore — 

And  b.  Jie  flames  dancing  round  a dungeon  door. 

Sprj\gue’s  Cunu>nfy. 


GLOOM -GLORY,  &,c. 


297 


GLOOM.  — (See  Care.) 


GLORY.  — (See  Ambition.) 


GLUTTONY.  — (See  Drinking.) 


GOD  — PROVIDENCE. 

There ’s  a Divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 

Rough-hew  them  as  we  will. 

SlIAKSPEARS. 

The  glorious  Author  of  the  universe, 

Who  reins  the  winds,  gives  the  vast  ocean  bounds, 

And  circumscribes  the  floating  worlds  their  rounds  ! 

Gay’s  Rural  Sport 

God,  veil’d  in  clouded  majesty,  alone 
Gives  light  to  all ; bids  the  great  system  move. 

And  changing  seasons  in  their  turns  advance. 

Unmov’d,  unchang’d  himself. 

Somervile’s  Chase, 

Who  finds  not  Providence  all  good  and  wise. 

Alike  in  what  it  gives,  and  what  denies  ? 

*■  Pope’s  Essay  on  3hm, 

All  nature  is  but  art,  unknown  to  thee, 

All  chance,  direction,  which  thou  canst  not  see, 

All  discord,  harmony  not  understood. 

All  partial  evil,  universal  good  ; 

And,  spite  of  pride — in  erring  reason^ s spite, 

One  thing  is  clear — whatever  is,  is  right. 

Pope’s  Essay  an 


298 


GOD -PROVIDENCE. 


O,  all-preparing  Providence  divine  ! 

In  thy  large  book  what  secrets  are  enroll’d  ? 

What  sundry  helps  doth  thy  great  power  assign, 

To  prop  the  course  which  thou  intend’st  to  hold  ! 

Dra\  row 

Go,  mark  the  matchless  working  of  the  Power 
That  shuts  within  the  seed  the  future  flower ; 

Bids  these  in  elegance  of  form  excel, 

In  colour  these,  and  those  delight  the  smell; 

Sends  nature  forth,  the  daughter  of  the  skies. 

To  dance  on  earth,  and  charm  all  human  eyes. 

COWPKR. 

Yes,  thou  art  ever  present.  Power  Divine  ! 

Not  circumscrib'd  by  time,  nor  fix’d  to  space. 

Confin’d  to  altars,  nor  to  temples  bound. 

In  wealth,  in  want,  in  freedom,  or  in  chains. 

In  dungeons,  or  on  thrones,  the  faithful  find  Thee. 

Hannah  Mork. 


The  Lord  ! how  tender  is  his  tear ! 

His  justice  how  august ! 

Hence  all  her  fears  my  soul  derives, 

There  anchors  all  her  trust ! 

Dr.  Darwin. 

O Thou  ! who  dry’st  the  mourner’s  tear. 

How  dark  this  world  would  be, 

If  when  deceiv’d  and  wounded  here. 

We  could  not  fly  to  thee  ! 

Moore.- 


Who  spoke  creation  into  birth. 

Arch’d  the  broad  heavens,  and  spread  the  rolling  earth ; 
Who  form’d  a pathway  for  the  obedient  sun. 

And  barle  the  s(^asons  in  their  circles  run  ; 

Who  fill’d  the  air,  the  forest,  and  the  flood. 

And  gave  man  all  for  comfort,  or  for  good. 

Charles  Sprague 


GOLD-\\^EALTH,  &c. 


299 


Below,  above,  o’er  all  h ; dares  to  rove. 

In  all  finds  God,  and  finds  that  God  all  love. 

Charles  Sprague. 

How  po'jr  bow  rich,  how  abjec.,  how  august, 
llow  complicate,  how  wonderful  is  man  ! 

How  passing  wonder  He,  who  made  him  such ! 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 


GOLD  — WEALTH,  &c. 

Dumb  jewels  often,  in  their  silent  kind. 

More  than  quick  words,  do  move  a woman’s  mind. 

Shakspeare. 

Madam,  I own ’t  is  not  your  person, 

My  stomach’s  set  so  sharp  and  fierce  on  ; 

But ’t  is  your  better  part,  your  riches. 

That  my  enamour’d  heart  bewdtches  ! 

Butler’s  Hudihras 

For  money  has  a powder  above 
The  stars  and  fate,  to  manage  love, 

Whose  arrows  learned  poets  hold. 

That  never  miss,  are  tipp’d  wdth  gold. 

Butler’s  Hudibras. 

Trade  it  may  help,  society  extend. 

But  lures  the  pirate,  and  corrupts  the  friend; 

It  raises  armies  in  a nation’s  aid. 

But  bribes  a Senate,  and  a land ’s  betray’d. 

Pope’s  Moral  Essays 
Get  place  and  wealth,  if  possible,  with  grace. 

If  not,  by  any  means  get  wealth  and  place. 

Pope’s  Moral  hssays 
To  whom  can  riches  give  repute  or  trust. 

Content,  or  pleasure,  but  the  good  and  just? 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man, 


300 


GOLD -WEALTH,  &c. 


Judges  and  Senates  have  been  bought  for  gold  ; 

Esteem  and  love  w'ere  never  to  be  sold. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 
Their  much-lov’d  wealth  imparts 
(Convenience,  plenty,  elegance  and  arts. 

Goldsmith’s  TravtUtr. 
Gold  is  the  strength,  the  sinews  of  the  world ; 

The  health,  the  soul,  th“  beauty  most  divine ; 

A mask  of  gold  hides  all  deform  ties  ; 

Gold  is  heaven’s  physic,  life’s  restorative. 

Decklh. 

To  purchase  heaven  has  gold  the  power? 

Can  gold  remove  the  mortal  hour  ? 

In  life  can  love  be  bought  with  gold  ? 

Are  friendship’s  pleasures  to  be  sold  ? 

No — ail  that ’s  worth  a wish — a thouo^ht — 

Fair  virtue  gives,  unbrib’d,  unbought. 

Cease  then  on  trash  thy  hopes  to  bind, 

Let  nobler  views  engage  thy  mind. 

Dr.  Johnson 

For  gold  his  sword  the  hireling  ruffian  draws; 

For  gold  the  hireling  judge  distorts  the  laws  ; 

Wealth  heap’d  on  wealth,  nor  truth  nor  safety  buys ; 

The  dangers  gather  as  the  treasures  rise. 

Dr.  Johnson 

Can  gold  calm  passion,  or  make  reason  shine  ? 

Can  we  dig  peace  or  wisdom  from  the  mine  ? 

Wisdom  to  gold  prefer ; for ’t  is  much  less 
To  make  our  fortune,  than  our  happiness. 

You  NO 

Because  its  blessings  are  abus’d. 

Must  gold  be  censur’d,  curs’d,  accus’d  ? 

Even  virtue’s  self  by  knaves  is  made 
A cloak  to  carry  on  the  trade. 


iay’s  Faoltt. 


GOM>- WEALTH, 


301 


Oh,  bane  of  man  ! seducing  cheat ! 

Can  man,  weak  man,  power  defeat  ? 

Gold  banish’d  honour  from  the  mind, 

And  only  left  the  name  behind ; 

Gold  sow’d  the  world  with  ev’ry  ill, 

Gold  taught  the  murderer’s  sword  to  kill ; 

’T  was  gold  instructed  coward  hearts 
In  treachery’s  more  pernicious  arts. 

Giv’s  FabUi 

Thus,  when  the  villain  crams  his  chest, 

Gold  is  the  canker  of  the  breast ; 

’T  is  avarice,  insolence,  and  pride 
And  ever})^  shocking  vice  beside  : — 

But  when  to  virtuous  hands ’t  is  given- 
It  blesses,  like  the  dews  of  heaven : 

Like  heaven,  it  hears  the  orphans’  cries, 

And  wipes  the  tears  from  widows’  eyes. 

Gay’s  Fables, 

If  happiness  on  wealth  were  built. 

Rich  rogues  might  comfort  find  in  guilt. 

As  grows  the  miser’s  hoarded  store, 

His  fears,  his  wants,  increase  the  more. 

Gay’s  Fables. 

Why  lose  we  life  in  anxious  cares. 

To  lay  in  hoards  for  future  years  ? 

Can  these,  when  tortur’d  by  disease. 

Cheer  our  sick  hearts,  or  purchase  ease  ? 

Can  these  prolong  one  gasp  of  breath, 

Or  caki  the  troubled  hour  of  death  ? 

Gay’s  Fabus. 

Abundance  is  a blessing  to  the  wise ; 

The  use  of  riches  in  discretion  lies  : 

Learn  this,  ye  men  of  wealth — a Heavy  purse 
In  a fool’s  pocket  is  a heavy  curse. 

Cumberland’s  Menander 


302 


i;oi>D- WEAi/ni  <vc. 


Still  to  be  rich  is  stil.  to  be  unhappy  ; 

Still  to  be  envied,  hated,  and  abus’d  ; 

Still  to  collect  new  lawsuits,  new  vexations. 

And  hoard  up  riches  for  a thriftless  heir. 

Let  me  be  ligh"  in  purse,  and  light  in  heart; 

Give  me  small  means,  but  give  content  withal ; 

And  I ’ll  be  thankful  for  my  poverty. 

Cumberland’s  Phihruur 
Thou  more  than  stone  of  the  philosopher ! 

Thou  touchstone  of  philosophy  herself’ 

Thou  bright  eye  of  the  mine  ! Thou  load-star  of 
The  soul ! Thou  true  magnetic  pole,  to  which 
All  hearts  point  duly  north,  like  trembling  needles ! 

Byron 

Had  I but  pearls  of  price— did  golden  pills 
Of  hoarded  wealth  swell  in  my  treasury, 

Easy  I ’d  win  the  fawning  flatterer’s  smiles, 

And  bend  the  sturdiest  stoic’s  iron  knee. 

A.  A.  Locke 

Think’st  thou  the  man,  whose  mansions  hold 
The  worldling’s  pride,  the  miser’s  gold. 

Obtains  a richer  prize 
Than  he,  who  in  his  cot  at  rest 
Finds  heavenly  peace  a willing  guest. 

And  bears  the  earnest  in  his  breast 
Of  treasures  in  the  skies  ? 

Mrs.  L.  H.  Sigourney 

Much  wealth  brings  want,  that  hunger  of  the  heart. 
Which  comes  when  nature  man  deserts  for  art. 

The  New  Timon 


I would  never  kneel  at  a gilded  shrine, 
To  worship  the  idol  Gold  ; 
r would  never  fetter  this  heart  of  mine. 
As  a thiriff  for  fortune  sold. 


Mrs.  L.  P.  Smith 


.;OSSIP  - SCANDAL. 


303 


It  tempts  him  from  the  blandishments  of  home, 

Mountains  to  climb,  and  frozen  seas  to  roam. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity 

Gold,  gold  ^ in  all  ages  tne  curse  of  mankind  ! 

Thy  fetters  are  forg’d  for  the  soul  and  the  mind : 

The  limbs  may  be  free  as  the  wings  of  a bird, 

And  the  mind  be  the  slave  of  a look  and  a word. 

To  gain  thee,  men  barter  Eternity’s  crown. 

Yield  honour,  affection,  and  lasting  renown. 

Park  Benjamik 


GOSSIP  — SCANDAL. 

There  is  a lust  in  man  no  charrri  can  tame, 

Of  loudly  publishing  his  neighbour’s  shame ; — 

On  eagles’  wings  immortal  scandals  fly, 

While  virtuous  actions  are  but  born  and  die. 

Harvev 

Skill’d  by  a touch  to  deepen  scandal’s  tints, 

With  all  the  high  mendacity  of  hints, 

While  mingling  truth  with  falsehood,  sneers  with  smiles, 

A thread  of  candour  with  a web  of  wiles. 

Byron 

In  fact,  there  ’g  nothing  makes  me  so  much  grieve, 

As  tha*  abominable  tittle-tattle, 

Which  IS  the  cud  eschew’d  by  human  cattle. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

I loathe  that  low  vice,  Curiosity ; 

But  if  there ’s  any  thing  in  which  I shine, 

’Tis  in  arranging  all  my  friends’  affairs, 

Not  having,  of  my  own,  domestic  cares. 

Byron’s  Don  Jtian. 


GRACE 


GRACE. 


Grace  was  in  her  steps,  heaven  in  her  eye, 

In  every  gesture,  dignity  and  love. 

Milton’s  Paradise 


Each  look,  each  motion  wak  d a new-born  (Trace, 

That  o’er  her  form  its  transient  glory  cast. 

MASoii 

Grace,  that  with  tenderness  and  sense  combin’d 
To  form  the  harmony  of  soul,  of  face. 

Where  beauty  shines,  the  mirror  of  the  mind 

Mason, 


See  what  a grace  is  seated  on  that  brow ! 


Shakspeare. 


Her  grace  of  motion,  and  of  look,  the  smooth 
And  swimming  majesty  of  step  and  tread, 

The  symmetry  of  form  and  feature,  set 
Tht  soul  afloat,  even  like  delicious  airs 
Of  flute  and  harp 

Milman 


Sweet  thoughts  are  mirror’d  in  her  face, 
And  every  motion  is  a grace. 


A lovelier  nymph  the  pencil  never  drew, 

For  the  fond  Graces  form’d  her  easy  mien. 

And  heaven’s  sof.  azure  in  her  eye  was  seen. 

Havleit 

Manners  all  graceful,  without  art, 

H'hat  to  each  look  and  word  impart 
A modesty  and  ease 


Levi  Frisels 


r ITUDE  - INGRATITUDE. 


Pm 


GRATITUDE  — INGRATITUDE. 


L hnie  ingratituck  more  in  a man 

Than  lying,  vainness,  babbling,  drunkenness. 

Or  axii  taint  vice,  whose  strong  corruption 
Inhabits  our  frail  blood 

SlIAKSI’EAItls 


The.  private  wound  is  deepest.  O time  most  curst  I 
’Mongst  all  foes,  that  a friend  should  be  the  worst ! 

Shakspeare. 

Slow  sharper  than  a serpent’s  tooth  it  is. 

To  have  a thankless  child  1 

SnAKSPEARr:. 

A grateful  mind 

By  owing  owes  not,  but  still  pays,  at  once 
Indebted  and  discharg’d. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost. 


What  can  I pay  thee  for  this  noble  usage. 

But  grateful  praise  ? so  heaven  itself  is  paid ! 

Rowe 

To  scatter  plenty  o’er  a smiling  land, 

And  read  their  history  in  a nation’s  eyes. 

^ Grav’s  Elegy. 

He  that  has  nature  in  him  must  be  grateful ; 

’T  is  the  Creator’s  primary  great  law. 

That  links  the  chain  of  beings  to  each  other. 

Maddent 


To  the  generous  mind 
The  heaviest  debt  is  that  of  gratitude, 

When  ’t  is  not  in  our  power  to  repay  it. 

Franrlin. 


If  there  be  a crime 
Of  deeper  die  than  all  the  guilty  train 
Of  human  v r^es,  ’tis  ingratitude. 


20 


BROOKifi 


GRAVE -GREATNESS,  &n. 


0() 


All  should  unite  to  punish  the  ungrateful ; 

Ingratitude  is  treason  to  mankind. 

Thomson 

Pride  may  cool  what  passion  heated, 

Time  will  tame  the  wayward  will ; 

But  the  heart  in  friendship  cheated 

Throbs  with  woe’s  more  maddening  thrill. 

ElvkoN. 

O,  colder  than  the  wind  that  freezes 

Founts,  that  but  now  in  sunshine  play’d. 

Is  that  congealing  pang  which  seizes 
The  trusting  bosom  when  betray’d. 

Moore’s  Lalla  Rookh. 

And  you,  my  dearest  friend  ! how  shall  I thank  you  ? 

What  shall  1 do,  to  show  my  grateful  heart  ? 

From  Sophocles. 


GRAVE.  — (See  Death.) 


GREATN  ESS  — POWER. 

Let  Hercules  himself  do  what  he  may : 

The  cat  will  mew,  the  dog  will  have  his  day. 

Shakspeare. 

What  great  ones  do,  the  less  will  prattle  of. 

Shakspeare 

Small  curs  are  not  regarded  when  they  grin ; 

But  great  men  tremble,  when  the  lion  roars. 

Shakspeare 

’’I  he  courtier’s,  scholar’s,  soldier’s,  eye,  tongue,  sword. 

SllAKSPrARE 

Vain  pomp  and  glory  of  the  world,  I hate  ye  ! 

Shakspeare 


GREATNESS  - POWER. 


207 


Authority  intoxicates 

And  makes  mere  sots  of  magistrates ; 

The  fumes  of  it  invade  the  brain, 

And  make  them  giddy,  proud,  and  vain ; 

By  this  the  fool  commands  the  wise  ; 

The  noble  with  the  base  complies ; 

The  sot  assumes  the  rule  of  wit ; 

And  cowards  make  the  brave  submit. 

Butlk*. 

This  leader  was  of  knowledge  great 
Either  for  charge  or  for  retreat ; 

He  knew  when  to  fall  on,  pell  mell. 

To  fall  back  and  retreat  as  well. 

Butler’s  Hudib  as. 


Uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a crown. 


Pope. 


A knight  of  high  renown : Not  Quixote  bold. 

Nor  Amadis  of  Gaul,  nor  Hudibras, 

Mirror  of  knighthood,  e’er  could  vie  with  thee. 

SOMERVILE. 


As  some  tall  cliff,  that  lifts  its  awful  form. 

Swells  from  the  vale,  and  midway  leaves  the  storm ; 

Tho’  round  its  breast  the  rolling  clouds  are  spread. 

Eternal  sunshine  settles  on  its  ’ ead. 

GoLDS3in  H 

He  left  a name,  at  which  the  world  grew  pak^, 

To  point  a moral  or  adorn  a tale. 

Dr.  Johnson 

A despct,  big  with  power  obtain’d  by  wealth. 

And  that  obtain’d  by  rapine  and  by  stealth. 

Cow  PER 

What  is  station  high  ? 

’T  is  a proud  mendicant : it  boasts  and  begs  ; 

It  begs  an  alms  of  homage  from  the  throng, 

And  oft  the  throng  denies  its  charity. 

Young’s  Night  Thoiighti 


308 


GREATNESS  - POWER. 


Earth’s  highest  station  ends  in  “ here  he  lies,” 

And  “ dust  to  dust”  concludes  her  noblest  song. 

Young’s  Night  llioughlk 
O greatness  ! thou  art  but  a flattering  dream, 

A watery  bubble,  lighter  than  the  air. 

Trac* 

Power!  ’tis  the  favourite  attribute  of  gods. 

Who  look  with  smiles  on  men  who  can  aspire 
To  copy  them. 

Martyn 

To  reign  is  pleasant,  tho’  it  be  in  hell ; 

Better  to  reign  in  hell,  than  serve  in  heaven. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost 
If  parts  allure  thee,  think  how  Bacon  shin’d, 

The  wisest,  brightest,  meanest  of  mankind  ; 

Or,  ravish’d  with  the  whistling  of  a name, 

See  Cromwell  damn’d  to  evei  lasting  fame. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 
He,  who  ascends  to  mountain-tops,  shall  find 

Their  loftiest  peaks  most  wrapt  in  clouds  and  snow ; 
He,  who  surpasses  or  subdues  mankind. 

Must  look  down  on  the  hate  of  those  below. 

Tho’  far  above  the  sun  of  glory  glow. 

And  fai  beneath  the  earth  and  ocean  spread, 

Round  him  are  icy  rocks,  and  loudly  blow 
Contending  tempests  on  his  naked  head. 

Byron’s  Childe  Hare  Id 

■ — Leonidas,  and  Washington, 

Whose  every  battle-field  is  holy  ground. 

Which  breathes  of  nations  sav’d,  not  worlds  undone ; 
How  sweetly  on  the  ear  such  echoes  sound  ! 

While  the  mere  victors  may  appal  or  stun 
The  servile  and  the  vain,  such  names  will  be 
A watchword,  till  the  Future  shall  be  free. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 


GREATNESS  - POWER. 


309 


The  greatest  chief, 

That  ever  ))eopled  hell  with  heroes  slain, 

Or  plangM  a province  or  a realm  in  grief. 

Byron's  Don  Jicaiu 

Where  may  the  weariea  eye  repose, 

When  gazing  on  the  great, 

Where  neither  guilty  glory  glows, 

Nor  despicable  state  ? 

Yes — one — the  first, — the  last, — the  best,-— 

The  Cincinnatus  of  the  West, 

Whom  envy  dar’d  not  hate — 

Bequeath’d  the  name  of  Washington, 

To  make  men  blush  there  was  but  one. 

Byron. 

Whose  game  was  empires,  and  whose  stakes  were  thrones. 
Whose  table,  earth — whose  dice  were  human  bones. 

Byron’s  of  Bronze, 

While  Franklin’s  quiet  memory  climbs  to  heaven. 

Calming  the  lightning  which  he  thence  hath  riven  ; 

Or  drawing  from  the  no  less  kindled  earth 
Freedom  and  peace  to  that  which  boasts  his  birth; 

While  Washington’s  a watchword,  such  as  ne’er 
Shall  sink  while  there ’s  an  echo  left  to  air. 

Byron’s  of  Bronzf 

And  that  odd  impulse,  which,  in  wars  or  creeds. 

Makes  men,  like  cattle,  follow  him  who  leads. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 

For  the  life  of  a Fox,  of  a Chatham  the  death. 

What  censure,  what  danger,  what  woe  would  I brave ! 
Their  liv3s  did  not  end  when  they  yielded  their  breath, 
Their  glory  illumines  the  gloom  of  the  grave. 

BvRiiN 

They  speak  in  characters  that  never  die. 

The  human  greatness  of  an  age  gone  by. 


W.  C.  Lodge 


310 


GRIEF  - TEAR*  - WEEl’ING. 


The  warrior’s  name, 

Tho’  peal’d  and  chim’d  on  all  the  tongues  of  fame, 

Sounds  less  harmonious  to  the  grateful  mind, 

Than  his,  who  fashions  and  improves  mankind. 

Barlow’s  Colunibiad 


GRIEF  --  TEARS  — WEEPING. 

Some  grief  shows  much  of  ^ove, 

But  much  of  grief  shows  still  some  want  of  wit 

Shakspeare 

Thy  heart  is  big ! get  thee  apart  and  weep. 

Passion,  I see,  is  catching  ; for  mine  eyes 
Seeing  those  beads  of  sorrow  stand  in  thine, 

Begin  to  water. 

Shakspea  re. 

I did  not  think  to  shed  a single  tear 

In  all  my  miseries  ; but  thou  hast  forc’d  me. 

Out  of  thy  honest  truth,  to  play  the  woman. 

Shakspeare. 

I am  a fool,  to  weep  at  what  I ’m  glad  of. 

Shakspeare. 

Nor  can  the  bravest  mortal  blame  the  tear 
Which  glitters  on  the  bier  of  fallen  worth. 

Shirly 

Hide  not  thy  tears ; weep  boldly — and  be  proud 
To  give  the  flowing  virtue  manly  way ; 

^T  is  nature’s  mark  to  know  an  honest  heart  by. 

Shame  on  those  breasts  of  stone  that  cannot  melt 
In  soft  adoption  of  another’s  sorrow  ! 

Aaron  Hili  . 

Sorrow,  that  streams  not  o’er. 

Spares  but  the  eye,  to  wound  the  heart  the  more ; 

Dumb,  infelt  pangs,  too  well  supply  the  woe 
That  grief,  in  suffering  silence,  shuns  to  show. 

Aaron  Hill. 


GRIEF  - TEARS  - WEEPING. 


311 


There  is  a kind  of  mournful  eloquence 

In  thy  dumb  grief,  that  shames  all  clamorous  sorrow. 

Nat.  l.EE. 

Behold  the  turtle  who  has  lost  her  mate ; 

Awhile  with  drooping  wings  she  mourns  his  fate  ; 

But  time  the  rueful  image  wears  away, 

Again  she ’s  cheer’d,  again  she  seeks  the  day. 

Gay’s  Diane, 

No  radiant  pearl,  which  crested  fortune  wears, 

No  gem,  that  twinkling  hangs  from  beauty’s  ears. 

Not  the  bright  stars,  which  night’s  blue  arch  adorn,  • 

Nor  rising  sun,  that  gilds  the  vernal  morn — 

Shine  with  such  lustre  as  the  tear,  that  flows 
Down  virtue’s  manly  cheek,  for  others’  woes. 

Dr.  Darwim. 

The  short,  thick  sob,  loud  scream,  and  shriller  squall. 

Pope. 

In  all  the  silent  manliness  of  grief. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  Village, 
Tears  yet  are  ours  whene’er  misfortunes  press, 

And,  tho’  our  weeping  fails  to  give  redress, 

Long  as  their  fruits  the  changing  seasons  bring. 

Those  bitter  drops  will  flow  from  sorrow’s  spring. 

R.  Bland’s  Philermn, 

Sighs,  tho’  in  vain,  may  tell  the  world  we  feel, 

And  tears  may  soothe  the  wounds  they  cannot  heal. 

R.  T.  Paine. 

Nor  shame,  nor  apathy,  nor  pride. 

Might  then  forbid  the  briny  tide  ; 

Uncheck’d  it  trickles  down  the  cheeks : 

’Tis  the  still  tear  that  transport  speaks. 

^ Mrs.  Holford’s  Margaret  of  Anjou, 

’Tis  said  at  times  the  sullen  tear  would  start. 

But  pride  congeal’d  the  drop  within  his  eye. 

. Byron’s  (1  tilde  Harold. 


312 


GRIEF  - TEARS  - WEEPING. 


Each  has  his  pang,  but  feeble  sufferers  groan 
With  brain-born  dreams  of  evil  all  their  own. 

Byron’s  Chult  IJmold 
So  madly  shrill,  so  piercing  wild. 

Byron’s  Pam 'no. 

Howe’er  our  stifled  tears  we  banish. 

When  struggling  as  they  rise  to  start. 

We  check  those  waters  of  the  heait. 

They  are  not  dried — those  tears  unshed, — 

But  flow  back  to  the  fountain  head. 

And,  resting  in  their  spring  more  pure. 

For  ever  in  its  depths  endure, 

Unseen,  unwept,  but  uncongeal’d, 

And  cherish’d  most  when  least  reveal’d. 

Byron’s  Parisina, 

Not  one  sigh  shall  tell  my  story. 

Not  one  tear  my  cheek  shall  stain  * 

Silent  grief  shall  be  my  glory- — 

Grief,  that  stoops  not  to  complain  ! 

Mha.  Robinson. 

The  wither’d  frame,  the  ruin’d  mind 
The  wreck  by  passion  left  behind, 

A shri veil’d  scroll,  a scatter’d  leaf. 

Scar’d  by  the  autumn  blast  of  grief. 

Byron’s  Giaour, 

Away  ! we  know  that  tears  are  vain. 

That  death  ne’er  heeds  nor  hears  distress ; 

Will  this  unteach  us  to  complain. 

Or  make  one  mourner  weep  the  less  ? 

Briu  N 

Oh  ! too  convincing — dangerously  dear. 

In  woman’s  eye,  the  unanswerable  tear  ! 

That  weapon  of  her  weakness,  which  can  wield 
To  save — subdue — at  once  her  spear  and  shield. 

Byron’s  Corsmf 


GRIEF  - TEARS  - WEEPING. 


3J3 


There  is  no  darkness  like  the  cloud  of  mind 
On  grief’s  vain  eye — the  Kindest  of  the  blind, 

Which  ma}^  not,  dare  not  see,  but  turns  aside 
To  blackest  shade,  nor  will  endure  a guide. 

Byron’s  Corsair. 

Opon  her  face  there  was  the  tint  of  grief. 

The  settled  shadow  of  an  inward  strife, 

And  an  unquiet  drooping  of  the  eye. 

As  if  its  lid  were  charg’d  with  unshed  tears. 

Byron’s  Dream. 

For  Beauty’s  tears  are  lovelier  than  her  smile. 

Campbeli  . 

The  rose  is  fairest  when  ’tis  budding  new, 

And  hope  is  brightest  when  it  dawns  from  fears : 

The  flower  is  sweetest  wash’d  with  morning  dew. 

And  love  is  loveliest  when  embalm’d  in  tears. 

Scott’s  Lady  of  the  Lake, 

The  heav3^  sigh. 

The  ^ar  in  the  half-open’d  eye. 

The  pallid  cheek  and  brow,  confess’d 
That  grief  was  busy  in  his  breast. 

Scott’s  Rokehy. 

Still  o’er  these  scenes  my  memory  wakes. 

And  fondly  broods  with  miser-care; 

Time  but  the  impression  deeper  makes, 

As  streams  their  channels  deeper  wear  ! 

BuRNg 

He  hung  his  head — each  nobler  aim, 

And  hope,  and  feeling,  which  had  slept 
From  boyhood’s  hour,  that  instant  came 
Fresh  o’er  him,  and  he  wept — he  wept ! 

Blest  tears  of  soul-felt  penitence  ! 

In  whose  benign,  redeeming  flow 
Is  fedt  the  first,  the  onl}^  sense 

Of  guiltless  joy  that  guilt  may  know ! 

Moore’s  Lallo  Rookh 


314 


GUII.T-SIN- VICE 


Tears — floods  of  ‘ears 
l^ong  frozer.  at  her  heart,  but  now  like  rills 
Ijet  loose  in  spring-time  from  the  snowy  hills. 

And  gushing  warm,  after  a sleep  of  frost, 

Through  valleys  where  their  flow  had  long  been  lost 

Moore’s  Lalla  Ruckh 

The  blight  of  hope  and  happiness 
Is  felt  when  fond  ones  part, 

And  tne  bitter  tear  that  follows,  is 
The  life-blood  of  the  heart. 

Fitz-green  Halleck 

When  all  that  in  absence  we  dread 
Is  past,  and  forgotten ’s  our  pain, 

How  sweet  is  the  tear  we  at  such  moments  shed. 

When  we  see  the  sweet  object  again  ! 

R.  V7 ILLM 


GUILT  — SIN  — VICE. 

Of  man’s  first  disobedience,  and  the  fruit 
Of  that  forbidden  tree,  whose  mortal  taste 
Brought  death  into  the  world,  and  all  our  wo. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost, 

Suspicion  always  haunts  the  guilty  mind ; 

The  thief  doth  fear  each  bush  an  officer. 

Shakspeare. 

It  is  great  sin  to  swear  unto  a sin. 

But  greater  sin  to  keep  a sinful  oath. 

ShAKSPE>-RE 

Guiltiness  would  speak,  tho’  tongues  were  out  of  use. 

Shakspe  are. 

Serpents,  though  they  fe«d 
On  .sweetest  flowers,  yet  do  poisons  breed, 


Shakspeare 


GUILT -SI  NT -VICE. 


315 


Our  sins,  like  to  our  shadows, 

When  our  day ’s  in  its  glory,  scarce  appear; 

Towards  our  evening,  how  great  and  monstrous ! 

Suckling 

How  guilt,  once  harbour’d  in  the  conscious  breast, 
Intimidates  the  brave,  degrades  the  great ! 

Dr.  Johnson 

Vice  IS  a monster  of  so  frightful  mien. 

As,  to  be  hated,  needs  but  to  be  seen  ; 

But,  seen  too -oft,  familiar  to  the  face. 

We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man, 
Where,  where,  for  shelter  shall  the  guilty  fly. 

When  consternation  turns  the  good  man  pale  ? 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 
Ah  me  ! from  real  happiness  we  stray. 

By  vice  bewilder’d  ; vice,  which  always  leads. 

However  fair  at  first,  to  wilds  of  wo. 

Thomson’s  .Agamemnon, 
Not  all  that  heralds  rake  from  coffin’d  clay. 

Nor  florid  prose,  nor  honied  words  of  rhyme. 

Can  blazon  evil  deeds,  or  consecrate  a crime. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harola. 
Ah,  Vice  ! how  soft  are  thy  voluptuous  ways  ! 

While  boyish  blood  is  mantling,  who  can  ’scape 
'fhe  fascination  of  thy  magic  gaze  ? 

A cherub-hydra  round  us  dost  thou  gape. 

And  mould  to  every  taste  thy  dear,  delusive  shape  ! 

Byron ^s  Cliilde  Harold, 

To  what  gulfs 

A single  devi^ion  from  the  track 
Of  human  duties  leads  ! 

Byron’s  Sardanapalas 

Thou  neod’st  not  answer  ; thy  confession  speaks, 

, Already  redd’ning  in  thy  guilty  cheeks. 


Byron’s  Co'^sair 


HABIT -fl AIR, 


316 


HABIT.  — (See  Custom 


HAIR.  — (See  Eyes.) 


HAPPINESS.  — (See  Enjoymemt 


HATRED.  — (See  Enemy.) 


HEALTH.  — (See  Disease.) 


HEART. 

TLe  heart  is  like  the  sky,  a part  of  heaven, 

But  changes,  night  and  day  too,  like  the  sky : 

Now  o’er  it  clouds  and  thunder  must  be  driven, 

And  darkness,  and  destruction,  as  on  high ; 

But  when  it  hath  been  scorch’d  and  pierc’d  and  riven 
Its  storms  expire  in  water-drops ; the  eye 
Pours  forth,  at  last,  the  heart’s  blood  turn’d  to  tears. 

Byron’s  Bon  Jnnn 

To  me  she  gave  her  heart — that  all 
Which  tyranny  cannot  enthral. 

Byron’s  Giaour 

Worm-like  ’twas  trampled,  adder-like  aveng’d. 

Byron’s  Cor.  nr. 

Ilis  heart  was  all  on  honour  bent, 

He  could  not  stoop  to  love; 

No  lady  in  the  land  had  power 
His  frozen  heart  to  move 


HEART 


317 


The  flush  of  youth  soon  passes  from  the  face, 

The  spells  of  fancy  from  the  mind  depart ; 

The  form  may  lose  its  symmetry  and  grace, — 

Dut  time  can  claim  no  victory  o’er  the  heart. 

Mrs.  Dinmks 

That  heart,  methinks, 

Were  of  strange  mould,  which  kept  no  cherish’d  print 
Of  earlier,  happier  times,  when  life  was  fresh, 

And  love  and  innocence  made  holiday. 

Hillhouse 

I am  not  old — tho’  Time  has  set 
His  signet  on  my  brow. 

And  some  faint  furrows  there  have  met. 

Which  care  may  deepen  now: — 

For  in  my  heart  a fountain  flows, 

And  round  it  pleasant  thoughts  repose. 

And  sympathies  and  feelings  high 
Spring  like  the  stars  on  evening  sky. 

Park  Benjamin. 

Honour  to  him,  who,  self-complete  and  brave, 

In  scorn  can  carve  his  pathway  to  the  grave, 

And,  heeding  nought  of  vvhat  men  think  or  say, 

Make  his  own  heart  his  world  upon  the  way  ! 

The  New  Timon 

Mine  be  the  heart  that  can  itself  defend — 

Hate  to  the  foe,  devotion  to  the  friend ! 

The  fearless  trust,  and  the  relentless  strife. 

Honour  unsold,  and  wrong  aveng’d  with  life ! 

The  New  Timoi^^ 

My  heart  is  like  the  sleeping  lake. 

Which  lakes  the  hue  of  cloud  and  sky. 

And  only  feels  its  surface  break 
When  b’rds  of  passage  wander  by. 

Who  dip  iheir  wings,  and  upward  soar. 

And  leav<?  it  quiet  as  before. 


N.  P.  Willis. 


318 


HEAVIiJN  -flKLL. 


My  heart  is  like  a lonely  bird, 

That  sadly  sings, 

Brooding  upon  its  nest  unheard, 

With  folded  wings. 

Mrs,  a.  B.  VVkihf 
Oh  ! coula  we  read  the  human  heart. 

Its  strange,  mysterious  depths  explore. 

What  tongue  could  tell,  or  pen  impart 
The  riclies  of  its  hidden  lore  ? 


HEAVEN  — HELL. 

Shall  we  serve  heaven 
With  less  respect  than  we  do  minister 
To  our  gross  selv(*s  ? 

Shakspeare. 

Divines  and  dying  men  may  talk  of  hell. 

But  in  my  heart  her  several  torments  dwell. 

Shakspeare 

There  is  perpetual  spring,  perpetual  youth ; 

No  joint-benumbing  cold,  nor  scorcning  heat, 

Famine  nor  age,  have  any  being  there. 

Massinger  and  Decker, 
Heaven ’s  the  perfection  of  all  that  can 
Be  said  or  thought,  riches,  delight,  or  harmony, 

Health,  beauty  ; and  all  these  not  subject  to 
The' waste  of  time,  but  in  their  height  eternal. 

* Shirley, 

Hell,  their  fit  habitation,  fraught  with  fire 
Unquenchable,  the  house  of  woe  and  pain. 

Milton’s  Paradise  I lU. 
Here  we  may  reign  secure;  and  in  my  choice, 

To  reign  is  worth  ambition,  though  in  hell ; 

B(  tier  to  reign  in  hell,  than  serve  in  heaven. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost, 


HF.LL-flERMIT,  See, 


319 


A blacK  and  hollow  vault, 

Where  day  is  never  seen  ; there  shines  no  sun, 

But  flaming  horror  of  consuming  fires; 

A lightless  sulphur,  chok’d  with  smoky  fogs 
Of  an  infected  darkness. 

^ John  Fof©. 


In  this  place 

Dwell  many  thousand  thousand  sundry  sorts 
Of  never-dying  deaths : there  damned  souls 
Roar  without  pity ; there  are  gluttons  fed 
With  toads  and  adders;  there  is  burning  oil 
Pour’d  down  the  drunkard’s  throat ; the  usurer 
Is  forc’d  to  sup  whole  draughts  of  molten  gold  ; 

There  is  the  murderer  for  ever  stabb’d. 

Yet  can  he  never  die ; there  lies  the  wanton 
On  racks  of  burning  steel,  while  in  his  soul 
He  feels  the  torment  of  his  raging  lust. 

John  Ford. 


HELL.  — (See  Heaven.) 


HERMIT  — SOLITUDE,  &c. 

The  shadowy  desert,  unfrequented  woods, 

I better  brook  than  flourishing  peopled  towns  : 

There  can  I sit  alone,  unseen  of  any. 

And  to  the  nightingale’s  complaining  notes 
Tune  my  distresses,  and  record  my  woes. 

SHARgrCARK, 

And  wisdom’s  self 
Oft  seeks  for  sweet  retir’d  solitude. 

Where,  with  her  best  nurse,  Contemplation, 

She  plumes  her  feathers,  and  lets  grow  her  Wings. 

Milton’s  Cimuis. 


320 


HERMIT -SOrJTUDE,  Slc. 


Retiring  from  the  populous  noise,  I seek 
This  unfrequentea  place  to  find  some  ease. 

Miltow 

Far  from  the  madding  crowd’s  ignoble  strife, 

They  kept  the  noiseless  tenor  of  their  way. 

Gray’s  EJegy 

How  happy  is  the  lonely  vestal’s  lot, 

The  world  forgettingf  by  the  world  forgot ! 

Pope’s  Eloi.sa, 

Far  in  a wild,  unknown  to  public  view, 

From  youth  to  age  a reverend  hermit  grew ; 

The  moss  his  bed,  the  cave  his  humble  cell, 

H is  food  the  fruits,  his  drinks  the  crystal  well  ; 

Remote  from  man,  with  God  he  pass’d  his  days. 

Prayer  ail  his  business — ah  his  pleasure  praise. 

Park  ELI 

0 sacred  solitude  ! divine  retreat ! 

Choice  of  the  prudent ! env}^  of  the  great  ! 

By  thy  pure  stream,  or  in  thy  waving  shade. 

We  court  hair  Wisdom,  that  celestial  maid. 

Y OUNG 

For  solitude,  however  some  may  rave, 

Seeming  a sanctuary,  proves  a grave — 

A sepulchre  in  which  the  living  lie. 

Where  all  good  qualities  grow  sick  and  die. 

Cowper’s  Retiremerd 

Oh  solitude  ! where  are  the  charms 
That  sages  have  seen  in  thy  face  ? 

Better  dwell  in  the  midst  of  alarms. 

Than  reiofn  in  this  horrible  place  . 

1 am  out  of  humanity’s  reach, 

I must  finish  my  jourru'y  alone ; 

Never  heir  the  sweet  music  of  speech — 

I start  at  the  sound  of  my  own. 


Co  IV  PER. 


OERMTT-SOI  IT"  DE, 


321 


Oh,  for  a lodw  ir  some  vast  wilderness — 

Some  bound'c-ss  contiguity  of  space. 

Where  rumour  of  oppression  and  deceit 
Might  n(wer  reach  me  more  ! My  ear  is  pain’d , 

M}"  soul  is  sick,  with  every  day’s  report 
Of  wrong  and  outrage  with  which  earth  is  fill’d. 

Co^Pt  R. 

Unhappy  he,  who  from  the  first  of  joys, 

Society,  cut  ofT,  is  lef  alone 
Amid  this  world  of  death. 

Thomson’s  Seasons, 
To  view,  alone, 

I’he  fairest  scenes  of  land  and  deep. 

With  none  to  listen,  and  reply 
To  thoughts  with  which  my  heart  beat  high. 

Were  irksome  ; for,  whate’er  my  mood. 

In  sooth,  I love  not  solitude. 

^ Byron’s  Bride  of  Ahydos 

The  lonely  spider’s  thin  gray  pall 
Waves  slowly,  widening  o’er  the  wall. 

By^ron’s  Giaotii 

There  is  a pleasure  in  the  pathless  woods ; 

There  is  a rapture  on  the  lonely  shore  ; 

There  is  society  where  none  intrudes, 

By  the  deep  sea,  and  music  in  its  roar. 

I love  not  man  the  legs,  but  nature  more 
From  these  our  interviews,  in  which  I steal 
From  all  I may  be,  or  have  been  before, 

To  mingle  with  the  universe,  and  feel 
What  I can  ne’er  express,  yet  cannot  all  conceal. 

Byron’s  Childe  flarnld. 
To  fly  from,  need  not  be  to  hate,  mankind. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 

In  solitude 

Smal'  power  the  nipt  affections  have  to  grow. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 


21 


322 


TI  ) fa  A N - HISTORY. 


If  from  society  we  Irarn  to  live, 

*T  is  solitude  should  leach  us  how  to  die. 

Byron’s  Childc  Ilaruld 
A populous  solitude  of  bees  and  birds. 

Byron’s  CJiilde  Harold. 
Oh,  that  the  desert  were  my  dwelling-place, 

W'ith  one  fair  spirit  for  my  minister, 

That  I might  all  forget  the  human  race, 

And,  hat  ng  no  one,  love  but  only  h('r. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
They  dwelt  in  calm  and  silent  solitude. 

Where  meaner  spirits  never  dare  intrude. 

Carlos  W ilcox 

There  have  been  holy  men  who  hid  themselves 
Deep  in  the  woody  wilderness,  and  gave 
Their  lives  to  thought  and  prayer  ; 

. . . . And  there  have  been  holy  men, 

"Who  deem’d  it  were  not  well  to  pass  life  thus. 

W.  C.  Bryant 


HISTORIAN  — HISTORY. 

T is  a great  fault  in  a chronologer 
To  turn  parasite  ; an  absolute  Historian 
Should  be  in  fear  of  none  ; neithej-  should  he 
Write  any  thing  more  than  truth  for  friendship, 

Or  else  for  hate. 

Lirr^rna 

Some  write  a narrative  of  wars,  and  feats 
Of  heroes  little  known,  and  call  the  rant 
An  history  ; describe  the  man  of  whom 
His  own  coevals  took  but  little  note. 

And  paint  his  person,  character,  and  views, 

As  they  had  known  him  from  his  mother’s  womb 

OowpER  s Task, 


HISTORY  - HOME  - HONESTY,  &c. 


323 


And  Rome  shall  owe, 

For  her  memorial,  to  your  learned  pen, 

More  than  to  all  those  fading  monuments, 

Built  with  the  riches  of  the  spoiled  world. 

VlAYi 

Historians  only  things  of  weight, 

Results  of  persons,  or  affairs  of  state, 

Briefly,  with  truth  and  clearness  should  relate  • 

Laconic  shortness  memory  feeds. 

Heath 


HISTORY.  — (See  Historian.) 


HOME.  — (See  Domestic  Affairs.) 


HONESTY  — HONOUR. 

There  is  no  terror  in  your  threats, 

. For  I am  arm’d  so  strong  in  honesty,  ^ 

That  they  pass  by  me  as  the  idle  winds. 

Which  I respect  not. 

SlIAKSPEilRK. 

^ His  words  are  bonds,  his  oaths  are  oracles ; 

His  love  sincere,  his  thoughts  immaculate ; 

His  tears,  pure  messengers  sent  from  his  heart ; 

His  heart  as  far  fro  n fraud  as  heaven  from  earth. 

Shakspeare, 

Upon  Jiis  brow  shame  is  asham’d  to  sit. 

For  ’tis  a throne  where  honour  may  be  crown’d, 

Sole  monarch  of  the  universal  earth. 

Shakspeare. 

_ » To  be  honest,  as  this  world  goes, 

Is  to  be  one  picU’d  oot  of  ten  thousand. 


Shakspeare. 


324 


HONOUR. 

Lands  mortgi/gVJ  may  return,  and  more  esteem'd; 

But  honesty,  once  pawned,  is  ne’er  redeem’d. 

MiDDLKlOn 


Honour’s  a sacred  tie — the  law  of  kings, 

The  noble  mind’s  distinguishing  perfection 
That  aids  and  strengthens  virtue  when  it  meets  her, 

And  imitates  her  actions  where  she  is  not. 

Addison’*?  Catv 

Honour  and  shame  from  no  condition  rise , 

Act  well  your  part, — there  all  the  honour  lies, 

• Pope’s  Essay  on  Man, 

A wit’s  a feather,  and  a chief’s  a rod  ; 

An  honest  man ’s  the  noblest  work  of  God. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man, 

I ’ve  scann’d  the  actions  of  his  daily  life 
With  all  the  industrious  malice  of  a foe ; 

And  nothing  meets  mine  eyes  but  deeds  of  honour. 

Hannah  More. 

Dishonour’d  ! — he  dishonoiar’d  ! 

1 tell  thee,  Doge,  ’tis  Venice  is  dishonour’d ; 

His  name  shall  be  her  foulest,  worst  reproach. 

For  what  he  suffer’d,  not  for  what  he  did. 

Byron’s  Two  Foscari, 

tionour  and  glory  were  given  to  cherish ; 

Cherish  them,  then,  though  all  else  should  decay; 
fjundmarks  be  these,  that  are  never  to  perish, 

Rtars  that  will  shine  on  the  duskiest  day. 

From  thi  Gentian, 


HONOUR.  — (See  Honesty.I 


HOPE, 


325 


HOPE. 

y^et  when  an  equal  poise  of  hope  and  fear 
Does  arbitrate  the  event,  my  nature  is 
That  1 incline  to  hope  rather  than  fear. 

Milton’s  Camus 
What  can  we  not  endure, 

When  pains  are  lessen’d  by  the  hope  of  cure  ? 

Nabu 

Hope  ! of  all  the  ills  that  men  endure, 

The  only  cheap  and  universal  cure  ! 

Thou  captive’s  freedom,  and  thou  sick  man’s  health  ! 

Thou  lover’s  victory,  and  thou  beggar’s  wealth ! 

Cowley 

Hope  ! fortune’s  cheating  lottery  ! 

When  for  one  prize  an  hundred  blanks  there  be  ! 

Cowley 

A-  beam  of  comfort,  like  the  moon  through  clouds. 

Gilds  the  black  horror,  and  directs  my  way. 

Dryden 

Hope  is  the  fawning  traitor  of  the  mind. 

Which,  while  it  cozens  with  a colour’d  friendship, 

Robs  us  of  our  last  virtue— resolution. 

Nat.  Lee 

Hope,  of  all  passions,  most  befriends  us  here : 

Joy  has  her  tears,  and  transport  has  her  death ; 

Hope,  like  a cordial,  innocent  though  strong, 

Man’s  heart  at  once  inspirits  ani  serenes, 

N r makes  him  pay  his  wisdom  for  his  joys. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 
O hope  ! sweet  flatterer  ! thy  delusive  touch 
Sheds  on  afflicted  minds  the  bairn  of  comfort— 

Relieves  the  load  of  poverty — sustains 

The  captive,  bending  with  the  weight  of  bonds, — 

And  smootlis  the  pillow  of  disease  and  pain. 

Glovep 

I 


32G 


liOPK. 


Hope  springs  eternal  in  the  human  breast ; 

Man  never  is,  but  always  to  be,  blest : 

The  soul,  uneasy,  and  confin’d  from  home. 

Rests  and  ?.xpatiates  on  a life  to  come 

Pope’s  Essay  on  jMan. 
Hope,  like  the  taper’s  gleaming  light. 

Adorns  the  wretch’s  way, 

I And  still,  as  darker  grows  the  night. 

Emits  a brighter  ray. 

Goldsmith. 

And  as,  in  sparkling  majesty,  a star 

Gilds  the  bright  summit  of  some  gloomy  cloud, 
Bright’ning  the  half-veil’d  face  of  heaven  afar, — 

So,  when  dark  thoughts  my  boding  spirit  shroud. 

Sweet  Hope  ! celestial  influence  round  me  shed. 

Waving  thy  silver  pinions  o’er  my  head  ! 

John  Keats 

The  evening  beam,  that  smiles  the  clouds  away. 

And  tints  to-morrow  with  prophetic  ray. 

Byron’s  Bride  of  Ahydos. 
Eager  to  hope,  but  not  less  firm  to  bear, 

Acquainted  with  all  feelings  save  despair. 

Byron’s  Island. 

Eternal  Hope  \ When  yonder  spheres  sublime 
Peal’d  their  first  notes  to  sound  the  march  of  time. 

Thy  joyous  youth  began,  but  not  to  fade, 

When  all  thy  sister  planets  had  decay’d ; — 

When  wrapt  in  flames  the  clouds  of  ether  glow. 

And  heaven  & last  thunder  shakes  the  world  below. 

Thou,  undismay’d,  shalt  o’er  the  ruins  smile. 

And  light  thy  torch  at  nature’s  funeral  pile  ! 

Campbeli. 

Hope’s  precious  pearl  in  sorrow’s  cup 
Un melted  at  the  bottom  lay. 

To  shine  again  when,  all  drunk  up. 

The  bitterness  sh''uld  pass  away, 
j Moore’s  Lova  of  the  Jlngeln 


HOPE. 


327 


What  though  corraJing  and  multiplied  sorrows, 
Legion-likc,  darken  this  planet  of  ours  ? 

Hope  is  a balsr  ,m  the  wounded  heart  borrows, 

Even  when  anguish  hath  palsied  its  powers. 

From  the  Germm^ 

A.nd  should  fortune  prove  cruel  ar^d  false  to  the  last, 

Let  us  look  to  the  future,  and  not  to  the  past. 

Epes  Sargent 

^ Bj  still,  sad  heart ! and  cease  repining; 

Behind  the  cloud  is  the  sun  still  shining. 

H.  W.  Longfellow. 
Never  forget  our  loves,  but  always  cling 
To  the  fix’d  hope  that  there  will  be  a time 
When  we  can  meet,-  unfetter’d,  and  be  blest 
With  the  full  happiness  of  certain  love. 

J.  G.  Percival, 

O,  if  love  and  life  be  but  a fairy  illusion, 

And  the  cold  future  bright  but  in  fancy’s  young  eye. 
Still  let  me  live  on  in  the  dreamy  delusion. 

And,  true  and  unchanging,  hope  on  till  1 die  ! 

Mrs.  Osgoo©. 

For  me— I hold  no  commerce  with  despair! 

Dawes’  Geraldine, 

Strange,  how  much  darkness  melts  before  a ray — 

How  deep  a gloom  one  beam  of  hope  enlightens  1 

Dawes’  Geraldim. 

S ^ eet  to  the  soul  the  whispering 
Of  hope  and  promise,  when 
Fancy’s  soft  fairy  voices  sing — 

We  part  to  meet  again  ! 

Bidden,  and  deep,  and  never  dry — 

Or  flowing  or  at  rest, 

A living  spring  of  hope  doth  lie 
In  every  human  breast. 


Mrs  WpLiji 


328 


HORSE. 


Does  hope  allure  ? — does  pleasure  smile  ? 

Then  tread  the  rosy  path  with  trembling ; 

For  pleasure  beckons  to  beguile, 

And  hope’s  fair  promise  is  dissembling, 

Mrs.  Holford’s  Mar  gar  tt  of  Injotk 
Sweet  hope  ! how  easily  thy  tale 

Wins  credence  from  the  charmed  ear! 

How  dost  thou  teach  thy  dupes  to  rail, 

On  thy  cold  rival,  halting  fear ! 

Mrs.  Holford’s  Margaret  of  Jlnjoxi. 
Like  the  gloom  of  night  retiring. 

When  in  splendour  beams  the  dav» 

Hope  again  rny  heart  inspiring. 

Doubt  and  fear  shall  chaie  away. 

The  heart  bow’d  down  by  weight  of  woe, 

To  weakest  hope  will  cling. 

Balfe’s  Bohemian  GirL 
Hope — the  sweet  bird  ! — while  that  the  air  can  fill. 

Let  earth  be  ice — the  soul  hath  summer  still ! 

The  Neiv  Tirmru 

And  canst  thou  bid  me  smother 
A hope  that  lighted 
Long  years  of  sorrow  ? 

A hope  that  leaves  none  other, 

When  it  is  blighted. 

To  make  life  dear? 

Fry’s  Leonora 


HORSE. 

Long-hooPd,  short- jointed,  fetlocks  shag  and  long. 

Broad  breast,  full  eyes,  small  head  and  nostril  wide, 
High  crest,  short  ears,  straight  legs  and  passing  strongs 
Thin  mane,  thick  tail,  broad  buttocks,  tender  hid'-. 

Shak«i*eark 


HUMILFl'Y. 


329 


The  beast  was  sturdy,  laige  and  tall, 

With  mouth  of  meal,  and  eyes  of  wall  * 

I should  say  eye — for  he  had  but  one, 

As  most  agree,  tho’  some  say  no7ie, 

Butler’s  Hudib^a^ 

The  courser  paw’d  the  ground  with  restless  feet, 

And  snorting,  foam’d,  and  champ’d  the  golden  bit. 

Drydek. 

Champing  his  foam,  and  bounding  o’er  the  plain. 

Arch  his  high  neck,  and  graceful  spread  his  mane. 

Sir  Richard  Blackmore* 
With  flowing  tail  and  flying  mane, 

With  nostrils  never  stretch’d  by  pain, 

Mouths  bloodless  to  the  bit  or  rein ; 

And  feet  that  iron  never  shod, 

And  flanks  unscar’d  by  spur  or  rod, 

A thousand  horse  — the  wild  — the  free  — 

Like  waves  that  follow  o’er  the  sea — : 

Came  thickly  thundering  on. 

Byron’s  Mazeppa, 

The  long,  long  tail  that  glorified 
That  glorious  donkey’s  hinder-side. 

Sands. 

I strode  o’er  his  back,  and  he  took  .0  his  wind, 

And  he  pranc’d  before,  and  he  Rick’d  behind ; 

And  he  gave  a snort,  as  when  mutterings  roll 
Abroad  from  pole  to  answering  pole. 

Sands 

He  plac’d  on  him  a tridle  and  a saddle, 

I’hen  on  his  back  he  quickly  leapt  astraddle. 

J.  T.  Wat.-ln. 

% 

HUMILITY. 

It  ii  the  witness  still  of  excellence. 

To  j)ut  a strange  face  on  its  own  perfection. 


Shaksfeakr 


330 


HUNGER  - HUNTING,  &c 


I,  your  glass, 

Will  modestly  discover  to  yourself, 

That  of  yourself,  which  yet  you  know  not  oi. 

SllAKSPEAEE, 


Her  voice  was  ever  soft, 

Gentle,  and  low  ; an  excellent  thing  in  woman. 

SllAKSPEARE. 


Disguis’d  humility  is 
Both  the  swift  and  safest  way  to  pride. 

Sir  W.  Davenant. 
Be  wise ; 

Soar  not  too  high  to  fall,  but  stoop  to  rise. 

Massinger. 


Humility  is  eldest-born  of  virtue. 

And  claims  the  birthright  at  the  throne  of  heaven, 

Murphv 


Humility,  that  low,  sweet  root. 

From  which  all  heavenly  virtues  shoot. 

Moore’s  Loves  of  the 


HUNGER.  — (See  Api  etite.) 


HUNTING.  — (See  Fishing.) 


HYPOCRISY.  — (See  Deceit.) 


IDLENESS  — INDUSTRY  — PERSEVERANCE. 

• 

The  rolling  wheel,  that  runneth  often  round, 

The  hardest  steel  in  course  of  time  doth  tear; 

And  drizzling  drops,  that  often  do  rebound. 

The  firmest  flint  doth  in  continuance  v/ear. 

Spenser’s  Sonnet*. 


IDLENESS -INDUSTRY,  &c. 


331 


Who ’s  born  for  sloth  ? To  some  we  find 
The  ploughshare’s  annual  toil  assign’d  ; 

Some  at  the  sounding  anvil  glow ; 

Some  the  swift-sliding  shuttle  throw ; 

Some,  studious  of  the  wind  and  tide, 

From  pole  to  pole  our  commerce  guide  i 
While  some,  of  genius  more  refin’d, 

With  head  and  tongue  assist  mankind. 

In  every  rank,  or  great  or  small, 

’Tis  industry  supports  us  all. 

Gay’s  Fables 

See  the  issue  of  your  sloth  : 

Of  sloth  comes  pleasure,  of  pleasure  comes  riot. 

Of  riot  comes  disease,  of  disease  comes  spending, 

Of  spending  comes  want,  of  want  comes  theft. 

And  of  theft  comes  hanging. 

Chapman  and  Jonson. 

Like  clocks,  one  w^heel  another  one  must  drive ; 

A flairs  by  diligent  labour  only  thrive. 

Chapman, 

For  Hercules  himself  must  yield  to  odds ; 

And  many  strokes,  tho’  with  a little  axe. 

Hew  down,  and  fell  the  hardest  timber’d  oak. 

Shakspeare 

He  whistled  as  he  went,  for  want  of  thought. 

Dryden. 

And  hsard  the  everlasting  yawn  confess 
The  pains  and  penalties  of  idleness. 

UOPE: 

Industrious  habits  in  each  bosom  reign. 

And  industry  begets  a love  of  gam. 

Goldsmith’s  IravcUer 
Attempt  the  end,  and  never  stand  to  .oubt; 

Nothing ’s  so  hard,  but  search  will  find  it  out. 


Herrick. 


IDLENESS  - INDUSTRY,  <fcc 


Perseverance  is  a Roman  virtue 
That  wins  each  godlike  act,  and  plucks  success 
Even  from  the  spear-proof  crest  of  rugged  danger. 

IIavarp 

No  more  the  irksome  restlessness  of  rest 
Disturb’d  him  like  an  eagle  in  her  nest, 

Whose  whetted  beak,  and  far  pervading  eye. 

Darts  for  a victim  over  all  the  sky. 

Bvron’s  Island 

Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard,  learn  to  live. 

And  by  her  wary  ways  reform  thine  own. 

Smart 

I would  not  waste  my  spring  of  ycuth 
In  idle  dalliance;  I would  plant  rich  seeds, 

To  blossom  in  my  manhood,  and  bear  fruit 
When  I am  old. 

Hillhousa. 

Let  us  then  be  up  and  doing. 

With  a heart  for  every  fate  ; 

Still  achieving,  still  pursuing, 

Learn  to  labour  and  to  wait. 

H.  W.  LOxNG FELLOW 

The  proudest  motto  for  the  young ! 

Write  it  in  lines  of  gold 
Upon  thy  heart,  and  in  thy  mind 
The  stirring  words  enfold  : 

And  in  misfortune’s  dreary  hour. 

Or  fortune’s  prosperous  gale, 

’Twill  have  a holy,  cheering  power — 

‘There’s  no  smh  word  as  failT^ 


Alice  G,  Les 


IGNORANCE. 


333 


IGNORANCE 

I he  truest  characters  of  ignorance 
Are  vanity  and  pride  and  arrogance, 

As  blind  men  use  to  bear  their  noses  higher 
I’han  those  who  have  their  eyes  and  sight  entire. 

Butler 

As  lookers-on  feel  most  delight, 

That  least  perceive  the  juggler’s  sleight, 

And  still  the  less  they  understand, 

The  more  they  admire  the  sleight  of  hand. 

Butler’s  Hudibras* 

But ’t  is  some  justice  to  ascribe  to  chance 
The  wrongs  you  must  expect  from  ignorance : 

None  can  the  moulds  of  their  creation  choose. 

We  therefore  should  man’s  ignorance  excuse ; 

When  born  too  low  to  reach  at  things  sublime, 

’Tis  rather  their  misfortune  tnan  their  crime. 

Davenant 

By  ignorance  is  pride  increas’d  ; 

Those  most  assume  who  know  the  least : 

Their  own  self-balance  gives  them  weight, 

But  every  other  finds  them  light. 

Gay’s  Fables. 

The  lamb  thy  riot  dooms  to  death  to-day. 

Had  he  thy  reason, would  he  skip  and  play? 

Pleas’d  to  the  last,  he  crops  the  flowery  food. 

And  licks  the  hand  just  rais’d  to  spill  his  blood. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man. 
Where  ignorance  is  bliss,  ’tis  folly  to  be  wise. 

Gray 

With  just  enough  of  learning  to  misquote. 

Byron’s  Enf>Ush  Bards., 


:m 


IMAGINA'l  J()J\  IMMOUTAUTY,  Ac. 


They  cannot  read,  and  so  don’t  li  jp  in  criticism ; 

Nor  write,  and  so  they  don’t  iifh  ct  the  muse  ; 

Were  never  caught  in  epigram  or  witticism  ; 

Have  no  romances,  sermons,  plays,  reviews. 

Byron’s  IhjxH, 

Who  laughs  to  scorn  the  wisdom  of  the  schools, 

And  thinks  the  first  of  poets  first  of  fools. 

Sprague’s  Cunositx 

IMAGINATION.  — (See  Fancy.) 


IMMORTALITY  — SOUL. 

One  thinks  the  soul  is  air ; another,  fire  ; 

Another,  blood  diffus’d  about  the  heart ; 

Another  saith  the  elemenis  conspire. 

And  to  her  essence  each  doth  give  a part. 

Davies’  Immortality  of  the  So  id 
But,  as  the  sharpest  eye  discerneth  nought. 

Except  the  sunbeam  in  the  air  do  shine. 

So  the  best  soul,  with  her  reflecting  thought. 

Sees  not  herself  without  some  light  divine, 

Davies’  Immortality  of  the  Soul 
Whate’er  of  earth  is  form’d,  to  earth  returns ; 

Ti’he  soul  alone,  that  particle  divine. 

Escapes  the  wreck  of  worlds,  when  all  things  fail. 

Somervile’s  Chase 

The  soul  of  man,  a native  of  the  skies. 

High-born  and  free,  her  freedom  should  maintain 
Unsold,  unmortgag’d  for  earth’s  little  bribes. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughti 
’T  IS  immortality  — ’t  is  that  alone 
A\nid  life’s  pains,  abasements,  emptiness, 

The  soul  can  comfort,  elevate,  and  fill; 

That  only,  and  that  amply  this  performs. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 


IMMOR  rALITY  - SOUL. 


335 


liK  earth  dissolve — yon  ponderous  orb  descend, 

A.nd  grind  us  into  dust — the  soul  is  safe ! 

The  man  emerges — mounts  above  the  wreck 
As  towering  flame  from  nature’s  funeral  pyre  ! 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 
When  nature  ceases,  thou  shall  still  remain, 

Nor  second  chaos  bound  thy  endless  reign : 

I ate’s  tyrant  laws  thy  happier  lot  shall  brave, 

Baffle  destruction,  and  elude  the  grave. 

TlCKtlJL. 

The  soul,  secure  in  her  existence,  smiles 
'At  the  drawn  dagger,  and  defies  its  point: 

The  stars  shall  fade  away,  the  sun  himself 
Grow  dim  with  age,  and  nature  sink  in  years : 

But  thou  shall  flourish  in  immortal  youth. 

Unhurt  amidst  the  war  of  elements. 

The  wreck  of  matter,  and  the  crush  of  worlds  ! 

Addison’s  C vio. 

It  must  be  so  : Plato,  thou  reasonest  well : 

Else  whence  this  pleasing  hope,  this  fond  desire. 

This  longing  after  immortality  ? 

Or  whence  this  secret  dread,  and  inward  horror 
Of  falling  into  nought  ? Why  shrinks  the  soul 
Back  on  itself,  and  startles  at  destruction  ? 

’T  is  the  divinity  that  stirs  within  us ; 

’T  is  heaven  itself  that  points  out  a hereafter, 

And  intimates  eternity  to  man. 

Addison’s  ( itQ 

The  soul  on  earth  is  an  immortal  guest, 

Compell’d  to  starve  at  an  unreal  feast ; 

A spark  which  upward  tends  by  nature’s  force  ; 

A stream,  divided  from  ies  parent  source ; 

A drop,  dissever’d  from  the  boundless  sea ; 

A moment,  parted  from  eternity ; 

A pilgrim,  panting  for  the  rest  to  come ; 

An  exile,  anxious  for  his  native  home. 


Hannah  VI orb. 


336 


IMMORTALri'Y  - IMIV.TIENCE. 


Cold  in  the  dust  this  perish’d  heart  may  lie, 

But  that  which  warm’d  it  ince  shall  never  die. 

CAVpnni, 

But  1 have  liv’d,  and  have  not  liv’d  in  vain  : 

My  mind  may  lose  its  force,  my  blood  its  fire, 

And  my  frame  perish  even  in  conquering  pain — 

But  there  is  that  within  me  which  shall  tire 
Torture  and  time,  and  breathe  when  I expire. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
Immortality  o’ersweeps 

All  pains,  all  tears,  all  time,  all  fears — and  peals 

liike  the  eternal  thunders  of  the  deep 

Into  my  ears  this  truth — Thou  liv’st  for  ever ! 

By  ROW 

A voice  within  us  speaks  that  startling  word — 

“Man,  thou  shalt  never  die  !”  Celestial  voices 
Hymn  it  into  our  souls  ; according  harps. 

By  angel  fingers  touch’d,  when  the  mild  stars 
Of  morning  sang  together,  sound  forth  still 
The  sonof  of  our  great  Immortality. 

R.  H.  Dana. 


IMPATIENCE— PATIENCE. 

A wretched  soul,  bruis’d  with  adversity. 

We  bid  be  quiet,  when  we  hear  if  cry  ; 

But  were  we  burden’d  with  like  weight  of  pain. 

As  much,  or  more,  we  should  ourselves  complain. 

Shakspe  ark 

For  there  was  never  yet  philosopher. 

That  could  endure  the  tooth-ache  patiently. 

Shakspear* 

How  poor  are  they  who  have  not  patience ! 

What  wound  did  ever  heal  but  by  degrees? 

Shakspkari«. 


IMPRISONMENT -PRISON, 


337 


That  which  in  ;n(^an  men  we  entitle  patience, 

Is  j)ak,  cold  c(  ward  ice  in  noble  breasts- 

Shakspeare 

So  tedious  is  this  day, 

As  IS  the^night  before  some  festival 
To  an  impatient  child,  that  hath  new  robes. 

And  may  not  wear  them. 

Shakspeare 

Patience  ! preach  it  to  the  winds  ; 

To  roaring  seas,  or  raging  fires  ! The  knaves 
That  teach  it,  laugh  at  you  when  you  believe  them. 

Otway’s  Orphan. 

O ye  cold-hearted,  frozen  formalists ! 

On  such  a theme ’t  is  impious  to  be  calm : 

Passion  is  reason,  transport,  temper,  here. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 
Patience  and  resignation  are  the  j illars 
Of  human  peace  on  earth. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 
But  patience  is  the  virtue  of  an  ass, 

That  trots  beneath  his  burden,  and  is  quiet. 

Lord  Lansdowne. 

Oh ! how  impatience  gains  upon  the  soul, 

When  the  long-promis’d  hour  of  joy  draws  near  \ 

How  -slow  the  tardy  moments  seem  to  roll  ! 

What  spectres  rise  of  inconsistent  fear ! 

Mrs.  Tighe’s  Psychi 


IMPRISONMENT— PRISCX;  &c. 

A prison ! heavens, — I loathe  the  hated  name, 
Famine’s  metropolis — the  sink  of  shame — 

A nans(!Ous  sepulchre,  whose  craving  womb 
Hourly  inters  poor  mortals  in  its  tomb ! 


22 


Tost  Btsgww, 


338 


IMPRISONMENT -PRISOIV,  Ac. 


A prison  i?  in  all  things  like  a grave. 

Where  we  no  better  privileges  have 
Than  dead  men ; nor  so  good. 

Bishop  Kino 

They  say  this  is  the  dwelling  of  distress, 

The  very  mansion-house  of  misery  ; — 

To  me,  alas  ! it  seems  but  just  the  same 
With  that  more  spacious  iail — the  busy' world. 

BeLJ  KR. 

Look  on  him — through  his  dungeon-grate. 

Feebly  and  cold,  the  morning  light 
Comes  stealing  round  him,  dim  and  late, 

As  if  it  loath’d  the  sight. 

Reclining  on  his  strawy  bed, 

His  hand  upholds  his  drooping  head — 

His  bloodless  cheek  is  seam’d  and  hard. 

Unshorn  his  grey,  neglected  beard. 

And  o’er  his  bony  fingers  flow 
His  long,  dishevell’d  locks  of  snow. 

J.  G.  Whittieb. 

What  has  the  grey-hair’d  prisoner  done  ? 

Has  murder  stain’d  his  hands  with  gore  ? 

Not  so ; his  crime ’s  a fouler  one — 

God  made  the  old  man  poor  ! 

For  this  he  shares  a felon’s  cell, 

That  fittest  earthly  type  of  hell! 

J.  G.  WHiniEH 

High  walls  and  huge  the  body  may  confine, 

And  iron  gates  obstruct  the  prisoner’s  gaze, 

And  massive  holts  may  baffle  his  design, 

And  vigilant  keepers  watch  his  devious  ways  : 

Yet  scorns  the  immortal  mind  this  base  control ! 

No  chains  can  bind  it,  and  no  cells  enclose ; 

Bwifter  than  light,  it  flies  from  pole  to  pole. 

And  in  a flash  from  earth  to  heaven  it  goes ! 


IMPUDENCE. 


r^onceive;  a crowd  of  wretched  men, 

Confin’d,  like  beasts,  in  such  a den  ! — 

Through  their  barr’d  windows  the)^'  can  see 
Birds,  beasts,  and  men,  all  blithe  and  free : 

They  view  the  azure  sky  serene, 

The]/  gaze  on  the  surrounding  scene, 

And  hope — but  hope  too  late,  alas  ! — 

That  they  from  “ durance  vile  ” may  pass. 

To  the  free  atmosphere  of  life. 

Its  cares  and  struggles,  toil  and  strife. 

J.  T.  Watson 

Yet  prisons — though  it  is  too  true 
They’re  evils — still  are  blessings  too; 

For,  without  them,  this  world  would  be 
One  scene  of  crime  and  anarchy. 

J.  T.  Watson. 


IMPUDENCE. 

He  that  has  but  impudence. 

To  all  things  has  a fair  pretence ; 

And,  put  among  his  wants  but  shame. 

To  all  the  world  may  lay  his  claim. 

Butler’s  Hudihvas. 
Immodest  words  admit  of  no  defence. 

For  want  of  decency  is  want  of  sense. 

Roscommon. 

To  glory  some  advance  a lying  claim, 

Thieves  of  renown,  and  pilferers  of  fame  ; 

Their  front  supplies  what  their  ambition  lacks  : 

'I’hey  know  a thousand  lords,  behind  their  backs. 

V'HJNO 

With  that  dull,  rooted,  callous  impudence. 

Which,  dead  to  shame,  and  every  nicer  sense,  I 

Ne’er  blush’d  ; unless,  in  spreading  vic« ’s  snares. 

He  blunder’d  on  some  virtue  unawares. 


"•Churchill. 


40 


INCREDUTJTY-INDIAiN,  Slc. 


INCREDULITY  —(See  Ckkdulitt.) 

INDIAN  — SAVAGE. 

Lo  ! the  poor  Indian — whose  untutor’d  mind 
Sees  God  in  clouds,  or  hears  him  in  the  wind 
His  soul  proud  science  never  taught  to  stray 
Far  as  the  solar  walk  or  milky  way ; 

Yet  simple  nature  to  his  hope  has  given, 

Behind  the  cloud-topp’d  hills,  an  humbler  heaven. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man. 

Where  beasts  with  man  divided  empire  claim. 

Goldsmith. 

Is  not  the  red  man’s  wigwam  home 
As  dear  to  him  as  costly  dome  ? 

Is  not  his  lov’d  one’s  smile  as  bright 
As  the  proud  white  man’s  worshipp’d  light  ? 

AIrs.  M.  St.  Leon  Loud. 
True,  they  have  vices — such  are  nature’s  growth, 

But  only  the  barbarian’s— we  have  both. 

Byron’s  Island, 

Shall  not  one  line  lament  the  lion  race. 

For  us  struck  out  from  sweet  creation’s  face? 

Freedom — the  self-same  freedom  we  adore, 

Bade  them  defend  their  violated  shore. 

Charles  Spra uus 

He  saw — and,  maddening  at  the  sight. 

Gave  his  bold  bosom  to  the  fight ; 

To  tiffer  race  his  soul  was  driven ; 

Mercy  was  neither  sought  nor  given  ; — 

The  pale  man  from  his  land  must  fly  ; 

He  would  be  free — or  he  would  die. 


Charles  Spraous. 


INDIFFERENCE. 


341 


But  the  doom’d  Indian  leaves  behind  no  trace 
To  save  his  own,  or  serve  another’s  race ; 

With  his  frail  breath  his  power  has  pass’d  away, 

Elis  deeds,  his  thoughts,  are  buried  with  his  clay, 

Charles  Sfilagte 

A-las,  for  them  ! their  day  is  o’er. 

Their  fires  are  out  from  shore  to  shore  ; 

No  more  for  them  the  wild  deer  bounds — 

The  plough  is  on  their  hunting  grounds. 

The  pale  man’s  axe  rings  thro’  their  woods, 

The  pale  man’s  sail  skims  o’er  their  floods ; 

Their  pleasant  springs  are  dry ; 

Their  children  — look,  by  power  oppress’d, 

Beyond  the  mountains  of  the  West  — 

Their  children  go  — to  die  ! 

Charles  Sfragu* 


INDIFFERENCE. 

I have  not  from  your  eyes  that  gentleness 
And  show  of  love,  as  I was  wont  to  have. 

Shakspeare 

Not  the  basilisk 

More  deadly  to  the  sight  than  is  to  me 
The  cool  ingenious  eye  of  frozen  kindness. 

(Uy 

Let  me  this  fondness  from  my  bosom  tear ; 

Let  me  forget  that  e’er  I thought  her  fair : 

Come,  cool  Indifference,  and  heal  my  breast; 

Wearied,  at  length,  I ^eek  thy  downy  rest  . . . 

Not  ah  h^r  arts  my  steady  soul  shall  move, 

And,  she  shall  find,  indifference  conquers  love. 

Lord  Lyttleion 

The  one  deep  cloud,  that  darkens  every  sky. 

Is  chang’d  affection’s  cold,  averted  eye. 


312 


INDICJENCE-  f JVERTY. 


\ once  was  quick  of  feeling — that  is  o’er. 

B’sron 

I tiust  the  frown  thy  features  wear 
Ere  long  into  a smile  will  turn  ; 

I would  not,  that  a face  so  fair 

As  thine,  belov’d,  should  look  so  stern. 

W,  Leggeti. 

jTour  coldness  I heed  not,  your  frown  I defy ; 

Your  affection  I need  not  — the  time  has  gone  by, 

When  a blush  or  a smile  on  that  cheek  could  beofuile 
My  soul  from  its  safety,  with  witchery’s  smile. 

Mrs.  Osgood 


INDIGENCE  — POVERTY. 

Poor  naked  wretches,  wheresoe’er  you  are. 

That  bide  the  pelting  of  this  pitiless  storm  ! 

How  shall  your  houseless  heads,  and  unfed  sides. 

Your  loop’d  and  window’d  raggedness,  defend  you 
From  seasons  such  as  these  ? 

Shakspearf. 

Famine  is  in  thy  cheeks ; 

Need  and  oppression  stareth  in  thine  eyes ; 

Upon  thy  back  hangs  ragged  misery ; — 

The  world  is  not  thy  friend,  nor  the  world’$  law. 

Sharspeare. 

A begging  prince  what  beggar  pities  not  ? 

Shakspeaek 

Think,  too,  in  what  a-woful  plight 

The  wretch  must  be,  whose  pocket ’s  light ; 

Are  not  his  hours  by  want  deprest? 

Penurious  cares  corrode  his  breast ; 

Without  respect,  or  love,  or  friends. 

His  solitary  day  descends 


Gay’s  Fablfi 


INDIGENCE  - POVERTY. 


:34 


gram  me,  Heaven  ! a middle  state, 

Neither  too  humble,  nor  too  great ; 

More  than  enough  for  nature’s  ends. 

With  something  left  to  treat  my  friends. 

Mai  LK  r 

Be  honest  prvert}  thy  boasted  wealth 
So  shall  thy  friendships  be  sincere  tho’  few , 

So  shall  thy  sleep  be  sound,  thy  waking  cheerful. 

I jATAJtfi) 

Want  is  a bitter  and  a hateful  good. 

Because  its  virtues  are- not  understood  ; 

Yet  many  things,  impossible  to  thought, 

Have  been  by  need  to  full  perfection  brought 
The  daring  of  the  soul  proceeds  from  thence, 

Sharpness  of  wit,  and  active  diligence ; 

Prudence  at  once,  and  fortitude  it  gives, 

And,  if  in  patience  taken,  mends  our  lives. 

Dry  DEN 

But  Knowledge  to  their  eyes  her  ample  page. 

Rich  with  the  spoils  of  time,  did  ne’er  unfold  ; 

Chill  penury  repress’d  their  noble  rage, 

And  froze  the  genial  current  of  the  soul. 

Gray’s  Elegy 

What  numbers,  once  in  fortune’s  lap  high-fed, 

Solicit  the  cold  hand  of  charity  ! 

To  shock  us  more,  solicit  it  in  vain  ! 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 
Aye  ! idleness  ! — the  rich  folks  never  fail 
To  find  some  reason  why  the  poor  deserve 
Their  miseries. 

SOUTHEV 

But  poverty,  with  most  who  whimper  forth 
Their  long  complaints,  is  self-inflicted  woe, 

Th  effect  of  lazmess,  or  sottish  waste. 


Cowper’s  Task 


344 


INDUS  rRY  - INGENUOUSNESS,  &a 


\ 


O,  blissful  puviMtv  ! 

Nature,  too  partial  to  thy  lot,  assigns 
Health,  freedom,  itinocence,  and  downy  peace-^- 
Her  real  goods : and  only  mocks  the  great 
With  empty  pageantries. 

Fenton 


He  views,  with  keen  desire 
The  rusty  grate,  unconscious  of  a fire. 


Goldsmith 


But  for  pride. 

We  had  not  felt  our  poverty,  but  as 
Millions  of  myriads  feel  it,  cheerfully. 

B Yli ( ) N ^ S If  r rnc r. 


Behold  yon  grey-hair’d  prisoner,  who  reclines^ 

Silent  and  sad,  upon  his  bed  of  straw  : — 

Look  on  his  venerable  form  ; behold 

The  snow-white  beard  that  hangs  adowm  his  breast. 

'Tis  W^inter  — cold  and  dreary  Winter  — and 
The  storm-king  rages  fearfully  without ; 

Yet  no  bright  blaze  adds  comfort  to  his  hearth; 

No  cheering  friends  sit  smiling  at  his  side ; 

But  1 cold,  biting  freezing  numbs  his  limbs, 

And  he  is  lone  and  comfortless  indeed. 

J.  T.  Watson 


INDUSTRY.  — (See  Idleness.) 


INGENUOUSNESS  — (See  Frankness 


INGRATITUDE.  — (See  Gratitude.) 


INJURY -WRONG. 


o 


INJUR't  — WRONG. 

It  often  falls,  in  course  of  common  life, 

’^rhat  Ris^ht  longtime  is  overborne  of  Wrong 
Throuab  avarice,  or  power,  or  guile,  or  strife, 

Which  weakens  that,  and  makes  this  power  strung. 

Spenser’s  Fairy 

Things  ill  begun  strengthen  themselves  in  ill. 

Shaksfeare, 

Mar  not  the  things  that  cannot  be  amended. 

Shaksfeare 

The  smallest  worm  will  turn,  being  trodden  on, 

And  doves  will  fight  in  safeguard  of  their  brood. 

Shaksfeare 

r see  the  right,  and  I approve  it  too. 

Condemn  the  WTong,  but  yet  the  wrong  pursue. 


Then  furl  your  banners  — better  far 
The  sun  ne’er  shone  on  “ Stripe  and  Star,” 

Than  it  should  ever  cheer  the  sight. 

Or  lead  the  van  to  unjust  fight. 

Mrs.  M.  St.  Leon  Lotti?. 

^T  is  wrong  to  sleep  in  church  — ’t  is  wrong  to  borrow 
What  you  can  never  pay  — ’t  is  wrong  to  touch 
With  unkind  words  the  heart  that  pines  in  sorrow  — 

’T  is  wrong  to  scold  too  loud  — to  eat  too  much  ; — 

’T  is  wrong  to  put  off  acting  till  to-morrow  — 

To  tell  a secret,  or  get  drunk.  But  such 
Are  nought  to  this  of  your  invention  ; it 
Can  scarce  be  borne  — but  I ’ll  not  mention  it. 

J.  T.  Watson 


346 


INJUSTICE  - JUSJ’ICE  - iaGl[T. 


INJUSTICE  — JUSTICE  — RIGHT. 

Nought  is  on  earth  more  sacred  or  divine, 

That  gods  and  men  do  equally  adore, 

Than  this  same  virtue,  that  doth  right  define  ; 

For  th’  heavens  themselves,  whence  mortal  men  .mplon 
Right  in  their  wrongs,  are  rul’d  by  righteous  lor:;. 

Spenser’s  Fairy 

This,  above  all,  to  thine  own  self  be  true, 

And  it  will  follow,  as  the  night  the  day. 

Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man. 

Shakspeare. 

Plate  sins  in  gold, 

And  the  strong  lance  of  justice  hurtless  breaks  ; 

Arm  it  in  rags  — a pigmy’s  straw  doth  pierce  it. 

Shakspeare, 

Yes,  let  the  traitor  die, 

For  sparing  justice  feeds  iniquity. 

Shakspeare. 

Justice,  when  equal  scales  she  holds,  is  blind ; 

Nor  cruelty  nor  mercy  change  her  mind  : 

When  some  escape  for  that  which  others  die, 

Mercy  to  those,  to  these  is  cruelty. 

Denham. 

Just  men  are  only  free,  the  rest  are  slaves. 

Chapman. 

And  Justice,  while  she  winks  at  crimes, 

Stumbles  on  innocence  sometimes. 

Butler’s  H)idihmz 

O ! how  glorious  ’t  is 

To  right  th’  oppress’d,  and  bring  the  felon  vile 
To  just  disgrace  ! 


Somervile’s  Chase. 


INNOCENCE - PURITl 


347 


of  pride,  in  erring  reason’s  spite, 

One  ttiing  clear  — whatever  is,  is  right 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man. 
for  forms  af  government  let  fools  contest : 

Whatever ’s  beci  administer’d  is  best ; 

For  modes  of  fa;ih  iet  graceless  zealots  fight, 

He  can’t  be  wrong,  whose  life  is  in  the  right. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 

He’s  poor,  and  that’s  ^-cspicious  — he ’s  unknown, 

And  that ’s  defenceless ; true,  we  have  no  proof 
Of  e^uilt  — but  what  hath  he  of  innocence? 

Byron’s  Werner. 

He  who  is  only  just,  is  cruel  * who 

Upon  the  earth  would  live,  we^e  all  judg’d  justly? 

Byron’s  Marino  Faliero. 
All  are  noi  just  because  they  do  no  wrong ; 

But  he,  who  will  not  wrong  me  when  he  may. 

He  is  the  truly  just.  I praise  not  those 
Who  in  their  petty  dealings  pilfer  not. 

But  him,  whose  conscience  spurns  at  secret  fraud. 

When  he  might  plunder  and  defy  surprise. 

Hi§  be  the  praise,  who,  looking  down  with  scorn 
On  the  false  judgmen.  of  the  partial  herd. 

Consults  his  own  clear  heart,  and  boldly  dares 
To  not  to  be  thought,  an  honest  man. 

Cumberland’s  Philemon 

INNOCENCE  — PURITY. 

For  unstain’d  thoughts  do  seldom  dream  on  evil. 

SllAKSPEARK 

Innocence  unmov’d 
At  a false  accusation  doth  the  more 
Confirm  itself;  and  guilt  is  best  discover’d 
By  its  own  fears. 


348 


INSECT. 


Against  the  head  which  innocence  secures, 

Insidious  malice  aims  her  darts  in  vain, 

Turn’d  backward  by  the  powerful  breath  of  heaven. 

Dr.  John!5<»x 

There  is  no  courage  but  in  innocence  ; 

No  constancy,  but  in  an  honest  cause. 

South 

And  with  her  orraceful  wit  there  was  inwroutrht 
A mildly-sweet  unworldliness  of  thought. 

Campbei.l 

A spirit  pure  as  hers 
is  always  pure,  even  while  i.  errs, — 

As  sunshine  broken  in  the  rill, 

Though  turn’d  aside,  is  sunshine  still. 

Moore 

As  the  stain’d  web,  that  whitens  in  the  sua 
Grows  pure  by  being  purely  shone  upon. 

Moore’s  Lalla  Rookh 
Hope  may  sustain,  and  innocence  impart 
Her  sweet  specific  to  the  fearless  heart. 

Charles  Spraous 


INSECT. 

The  careful  bee  amidst  his  work  I view 
Now  from  the  flowers  eAhaust  the  fragrant  dew; 

With  golden  treasures  load  his  little  thighs, 

And  steer  his  distant  journey  thro’  the  skies ; — 

Some  against  hostile  drones  the  hive  defend, 

Others  with  sweets  the  waxen  cells  distend  ; 

Each  in  the  toil  his  destin’d  office  bears, 

And  in  the  little  bulk  a mighty  soul  appears. 

Gay’s  Rural  Spoith 

Tiie  spider,  of  mechanic  kind, 

Aspir’d  to  science  more  refin’d. 

Gay’s  Fablfs 


INSECT. 


349 


I’d  b?  a butterfly  born  in  a bowei 

Where  roses,  and  lilies,  and  violets  meet, 

Roving  for  ever  from  flower  to  flower, 

And  kissing-  all  buds  that  are  pretty  and  sweet. 

T.  H.  Baylv. 

The  harmless  locust  of  the  western  clime, 

At  intervals,  amid  the  leaves  unseen, 

Is  heard  to  sing  with  one  imbroken^  sound. 

As  witn  a long-drawn  breath,  beginning  low, 

And  rising  to  the  midst  with  shriller  swell, 

Then  in  low  cadence  dying  all  away. 

Carlos  Wilcox. 

The  russet  grasshopper  at  times  is  heard, 

Snapping  his  many  wings,  m half  he  flies. 

Half  hovers  in  the  air. 

Carlos  Wilcox. 

Beside  the  stream,  collected  in  a flock, 

The  noiseless  butterflies,  tho’  on  the  ground. 

Continue  still  to  wave  their  open  wings. 

Powder’d  with  gold. 

Carlos  Wilcox, 

The  butterfly, 

That  seem’d  a living  blossom  of  the  air. 

Carlos  Wilcox. 

The  dandy  of  the  summer  flowers  and  woods. 

Simms. 

Thou  sweet  musician,  that  around  my  bed 
Dist  nightly  come,  and  wind  thy  little  horn. 

By  what  unseen  and  secret  influence  led, 

Feed’st  thou  my  ear  with  music  till  the  mom  ? 

Edward  San  fort. 

Our  'Veins’  pure  juices  were  not  made*  for  thee, 

'I'hou  li/ing,  singing,  st'dging  atomy. 


Edward  Sanfcpjd 


350 


iNsriN(ri’-si<:Nsr:f=j 


INSTINCT  — SENSES. 

The  power  is  Sense,  which  from  abroad  doth  bring 
The  colcur,  taste,  and  touch,  and  scent,  and  sound, 

The  quantity  and  shape  of  everytiiing. 

Within  earth’s  centre  or  earth’s  circle  found. 

Davies’  IminortalUy  oj  tin  Soul 
And  though  things  sensible  be  numberless. 

But  only  five  the  Senses’  organs  Z)e, 

And  in  these  five  all  things  their  forms  express 
Which  we  can  touch,  taste,  smell,  or  hear,  or  see, 

Davies’  Immortality  of  the  Soul, 
If  we  had  nought  but  sense,  each  living  wight. 

Which  we  call  brute,  would  be  more  sharp  than  we. 

As  having  sense’s  apprehensive  might 
In  a more  clear  and  excellent  degree. 

Davies’  Immortality  of  the  Soul 
Lastly,  nine  things  to  sight  requir’d  are ; 

The  power  to  see,  the  light,  the  visible  thing. 

Being  not  too  small,  too  thin,  too  nigh,  too  far. 

Clear  space,  and  time,  the  form  distinct  to  bring. 

Davies’  Immortality  of  the  Soul 
These  wickets  of  the  soul  are  plac’d  on  high. 

Because  all  sounds  do  lightly  mount  aloft ; 

And  that  they  may  not  pierce  too  violently. 

They  are  delay’d  with  turns  and  windings  oft. 

For,  should  the  voice  directly  strike  the  brain, 

It  would  astonish  and  confuse  it  much ; 

Therefore  these  plaits  and  folds  the  sound  restrain. 

That  it  the  organ  may  more  gently  touch. 

Davies’  Immortality  of  the  SroJ, 
And  yet  good  sense  doth  purify  the  brain 
Awake  the  fancy,  and  the  wits  refine ; 

Hence  old  devotion  incense  did  ordain. 

To  make  men’s  spirits  apt  for  thoughts  divine, 

Davies’  Imim)rtalitTii  of  tht  Soul. 


INSTI]\CT-SENSE8. 


351 


By  touch  the  first  pure  qualities  we  learn, 

Which  quicken  all  things  — hot,  cold,  moist  and  dry  ; 
By  touch,  hard,  soft,  rough,  smooth,  we  do  discern  ; 

By  touch,  sweet  pleasure  and  sharp  pain  we  try. 

Davies’  Jmmortalily  of  the  Soul 

Here  streams  ascend, 

The:  in  mix’d  fumes  the  wrinkled  nose  offend. 

Gay’s  Tiivia. 


In  the  nice  bee  what  sense,  so  subtly  true, 

From  poisonous  herbs  extracts  the  healing  dew  ? 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man, 

Learn  from  me  birds  what  food  the  thickets  yield ; 

Learn  from  the  beasts  the  physic  of  the  field ; 

The  art  of  building  from  the  bee  receive  ; 

Learn  of  the  mole  to  plough,  the  worm  to  weave. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man, 

Reason  raise  o’er  instinct  as  you  can. 

In  this ’t  is  God  directs,  in  that ’t  is  man. 


Tell  me  why  the  ant 

Mid  summer’s  plenty,  thinks  of  winter’s  want? 

By  constant  journeys  careful  to  prepare 
Her  full  stores,  and  bring  home  the  corny  ear  ? 

By  what  instruction  does  she  bite  the  grain. 

Lest,  hid  in  earth,  and  taking  root  again. 

It  might  elud?  the  foresight  of  her  care  ^ 

Distinct  in  either  insect’s  deeds  appea; 

I’he  marks  ol  thought,  contrivance,  hepe,  and  fear. 

Pr!0* 

Evil  like  us  they  shun,  and  covet  good  ; 

Abhor  the  poison,  and  receive  the  food  ; — 

Like  us  they  love  or  liate ; like  us  they  krow 
To  joy  the  friend,  or  grapple  with  the  foe. 


PRIO^ 


352 


INTET.T.ECT-  IM’ENTION,  Arc. 


Reason ’s  progressive,  Instinct  is  complete  ; 

Swift  Instinct  leaps  ; slow  l^eason  feebly  climbs 
Brutes  soon  their  zenitli  reach.  In  ages  they 
No  more  could  know,  do,  covet,  or  enjoy. 

Were  man  to  live  coeval  with  the  sun. 

The  patriarch  pupil  would  be  learning  still. 

Young’s  iVighf  7 'he  ugKn 

The  meaner  tribe  the  coming  storm  foresees ; 

In  the  still  calm  the  bird  divines  the  breeze ; 

The  ox,  that  grazes,  shuns  the  poison-weed  ; 

The  unseen  tiger  frights  afar  the  steed  ; 
lo  man  alone  no  kind  foreboding  shows 
The  latent  horror  or  the  ambush’d  fops ; 

O’er  each  blind  moment  hangs  the  funeral  pall — 

Heaven  shines,  earth  smiles,  and  night  descends  on  all  ! 

The  New  l^imon 


INTELLECT.  — (See  Genius  ; 


INTENTION.  (See  Design.) 


JAIL.  — (See  Imprisonment.) 


JEALOUSY  —SUSPICION. 

Foul  jealousy  ! thou  turnest  love  divine 

I’o  joyless  dread,  and  mak’st  the  loving  heart 
With  hateful  thoughts  to  languish  and  to  pine. 

And  feed  itself  with  seir-consurning  smart ; 

Of  all  the  passions  of  the  mind,  thou  vilest  art. 

Spunskr’s  Fairy  Queen 


JEALOUSY  - SUSPICION. 


353 


Beware  of  jealousy ; 

h is  the  green-eyed  monster  which  doth  make 
The  m(;at  it  feeds  or 

Shakspeark 

The  venom  clamours  of  a jealous  woman 
Poison  more  deadly  than  a mad-dog’s  tooth. 

SlIAKSPEARE 

Think’st  thou  I ’d  make  a life  of  jealousy, 

To  follow  all  the  changes  of  the  moon 

With  fresh  suspicions  ? No  . to  be  once  in  doubt 

Is  — once  to  be  resolv’d. 

Shakspeare 

I ’ll  see,  before  I doubt ; when  I doubt,  prove  : 

And,  on  the  proof,  there  is  no  more  but  this  — 

Away,  at  once,  wit^i  love  and  jealousy. 

Shakspeare. 

Trifles,  light  as  air, 

Are  to  the  jealous  confirmations  strong 
As  proofs  of  holy  writ. 

Shakspeare. 

Pale  hag,  infernal  fury,  pleasure’s  smart ! — 

Envious  observer,  prying  in  ever}^  part  — 

Suspicious,  fearful,  grazing  still  about  thee  — 

O,  would  to  God  that  love  could  be  without  thee  ! 

Daniel’s  Rosamond, 
Oh ! the  pain  of  pains, 

Is  when  the  fair  one,  whom  our  soul  is  fond  of. 

Gives  transport,  and  receives  it  from  another. 

Yotno 

W^ith  groundless  fear  he  thus  his  soul  deceives, 

What  phrenzy  dictates,  jealousy  believes. 

Gay’s  Diont 

Yet  he  was  jealous,  though  h(*  did  not  show  it : 

For  jealousy  dislikes  the  world  to  know  iu 

Byron’s  Don  Tuan, 


23 


354 


JOY -JUSTICE  - KINDNESS. 


For  jealousy  is  but  a kind 
Of  clap  and  gimcam  of  the  mind, 

The  natural  efftxt  of  love, 

As  other  flames  and  achings  prove. 

IButler’s  Hudibjai 

But  there  are  storms,  whose  lightnings  never  glare — 
Tempests,  whose  thunders  never  cease  to  roll ; 

The  storms  of  Love  when  madden’d  to  despair — 

The  furious  tempests  of  the  jealous  soul. 

Isaac  Cl  a son 

And  jealousy,  that  doats  and  dooms^ 

And  murders,  yet  adores  ! 

Charles  Sprague. 

And  shall  we  all  condemn,  and  all  distrust, 

Because  some  men  are  false,  and  some  unjust  ? 

Forbid  it,  Heaven  ! for  better  ’twere  to  be 

Dup’d  of  the  fond  impossibility 

Of  light  and  radiance,  which  sleep’s  visions  gave, 

Than  thus  to  live.  Suspicion’s  bitter  slave. 

Mrs.  Norton’s  Drearr^. 


JOY.  — (See  Enjoyment.) 


JUSTICE.  — (See  Injustice.) 


KINDNESS  ~ PHILANTHROPY. 

He  hath  a tear  for  pity,  and  a hand 
Open  as  day  for  melting  charity. 

Shakspeare 

A smile  recures  the  wounding  of  a frown. 


SlIAKSPEAR* 


KINDNESS  - PHILANTHROPY. 


355 


Kindness  in  women,  not  their  beauteous  looks. 

Shall  win  my  love. 

Shakspeare 

Sweet  as  refreshing  dews,  or  summer  showers, 

’’fV)  the  long-parching  thirst  of  drooping  flowers; 

Grateful  as  fanning  gales  to  fainting  swains ; 

And  soft  as  trickling  balm  to  bleeding  pains, 

Are  thy  kind  words. 

Gay’s  Diont. 

Assail’d  by  scandal  and  the  tongue  of  strife, 

His  only  answer  was  a blameless  life ; 

And  he  that  forg’d,  and  he  that  threw  the  dart, 

Had  each  a brother’s  interest  in  his  heart. 

COWPER. 

Laugh  at  their  jests  and  pranks  that  never  fail. 

Or  sigh  with  pity  at  some  mournful  tale. 

Goldsmith’s  Traveller. 
And  he  returns  a friend  who  came  a foe. 

Pope. 

Who  will  not  give 

Some  portion  of  his  ease,  his  blood,  his  wealth. 

For  others’  good,  is  a poor,  frozen  churl. 

Joanna  Baillie. 

It  is  in  vain  that  we  would  coldly  gaze 
On  such  as  smile  on  us  ; the  heart  must 
Leap  kindly  back  to  kindness,  though  disgust 
Hath  wean’d  it  from  all  worldlinofs. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
The  drying  up  a single  tear  has  more 
Of  honest  fame,  than  shedding  seas  of  gore. 

Byron’s  Doji  Juan 
Which  seeks  again  those  chords  to  bind 
Which  human  woe  hath  rent  apart ; 

To  heal  again  the  wounded  mind. 

And  bind  again  the  broken  heart. 


J.  G.  Whittier 


KINGS  - ROYALTY. 


A little  word  in  kindness  spoken, 

A motion,  or  a tear. 

Has  often  heal’d  the  heart  that’s  broken, 
And  made  a friend  sincere. 


KINGS  — ROYALTY. 


O majesty ! 

When  thou  dost  pinch  thy  bearer,  thou  dost  sit 
Like  a rich  armour  worn  in  heat  of  day, 

That  scalds  with  safety. 

Shakspkare. 


What  have  kings 

That  privates  have  not  too,  save  ceremony  ? 

Shakspeare, 

Princes  have  but  their  titles  for  their  glories, 

An  outward  honour  for  an  inward  toil ; 

And  for  unfelt  imaginations. 

They  often  feel  a world  of  restless  cares. 

Shakspeare. 

The  king-becoming  graces 
Are  justice,  verity,  temperance,  stableness, 

Bounty,  perseverance,  mercy,  lowliness, 

Devotion,  patience,  courage,  fortitude. 

Shakspeare 


Princes,  that  would  their  people  should  do  well, 

Must  at  themselves  begin,  as  at  the  head ; 

For  men,  by  their  example,  pattern  out 
Their  imitations  and  regard  of  laws  : 

A virtuous  court  a world  to  virtue  draws. 

Ben  Jonson. 

O wretched  state  of  kings!  that  standing  high. 

Their  faults  are  marks  shot  at  by  every  eye. 


Decker. 


KINGS -ROYALTY. 


357 


And  while  they  live,  we  see  their  glorious  actions 
Oft  wrested  to  the  worst;  and  all  their  life 
Is  but  p stag(^  of  endless  toil  and  strife, 

Of  torments,  uproars,  mutinies,  and  factions. 

They  rise  with  fear,  and  lie  with  danger  down ; 

Huge  are  the  cares  that  wait  upon  a crown. 

Lord  Sterline. 

He ’s  a kinor, 

A true,  right  king,  that  dares  do  aught,  save  wrong ; 

Fears  nothing  mortal,  but  to  be  unjust; 

Who  is  not  blown  up  with  the  flattering  pufls 
Of  spongy  sycophants ; who  stands  unmov’d, 

Despite  the  jostling  of  opinion. 

Marston 

Kings  do  often  grant 

That  happiness  to  others,  which  themselves  do  want. 

Dauborne 

What  is  a king? — A man  condemn’d  to  bear 
The  public  burthen  of  the  nation’s  care ; 

Now  crown’d  some  angry  faction  to  appease ; 

Now  falls  a victim  to  the  people’s  ease ; 

From  the  first  blooming  of  his  ill-taught  youth, 

Nourish’d  in  flattery,  and  estrang’d  from  truth; 

At  home,  surrounded  by  a servile  crowd, 

Prompt  to  abuse,  and  in  detraction  loud  ; 

Abroad,  begirt  with  men,  and  swords,  and  spears, 

His  very  state  acknowledging  his  fears ; 

Marching  amidst  a thousand  guards,  he  shows 
Mis  secret  terror  of  a thousand  foes. 

Prior 

No  law  betwixt  two  sov’reigns  can  decide. 

But  that  of  arms  — where  fortune  is  the  judge. 

Soldiers  the  lawyers,  and  the  bar  the  field. 

Drvdrn 

Uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a crown. 

Pope. 


358 


KISS -LAUGHTER. 


The  man,  whom  heave^  appoints 
To  govern  others,  should  hi  rust*  If  first  learn 
To  bend  his  passions  to  the  sway  of  reason. 

Thomson 


Let  him  maintain  his  power,  but  not  increase  it ; 

The  string,  prerogative,  when  strain’d  too  high, 

Cracks,  like  the  tortur’d  chord  of  harmony, 

And  spoils  the  concert  between  king  and  subject. 

Mavard 


He  is  ours, 

T’  administer,  to  guard,  t’  adorn  the  state, 

But  not  to  warp,  or  change  it ; we  are  his, 

To  serve  him  nobly  in  the  common  cause. 

True  to  the  death  — but  not  to  be  his  slaves. 

Cowper’s  Tas.\ 


At  princes  let  but  satire  lift  his  gun. 

The  more  their  feathers  fly,  the  more  the  fun  ! 

E’en  the  whole  world,  blockheads  and  men  of  letters. 
Enjoy  a cannonade  upon  their  betters. 

Dr.  Wolcot’s  Peter  Pindar, 
A crown  ! what  is  it  ? 

It  is  to  bear  the  miseries  of  a people  ; 

To  hear  their  murmurs,  feel  their  discontents. 

And  sink  beneath  a load  of  splendid  care  ! 

Hannah  More, 

111  do  you  know  the  spectral  forms  that  wait 
Upon  a king:  care  with  his  furrow’d  brow, 

Unsleeping  watchfulness,  lone  secresy, 

Attend  his  throne  by  day,  his  couch  by  night. 

Ijokd  John  Russell 


KISS.  — (See  Embrace.^ 


L A U G H T E R.  — (See  Chkerfui.ness  ) 


LAW -LAWYERS. 


359 


LAW  — LAWYERS. 

It  often  ftiliS,  in  course  of  common  life, 

I’hat  right  loner  lime  is  overborne  of  wrong, 

Through  avarice,  or  })ower,  or  guile,  or  strife. 

That  weakens  her,  and  makes  her  party  strong  t 
But  justice,  tho’  her  doom  she  do  prolong. 

Yet  at  the  last  she  will  her  own  cause  right. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queen 
The  jury,  passing  on  the  prisoner’s  life, 

May,  in  the  sworn  twelve,  have  a thief  or  two 
Guiltier  than  him  they  try. 

Shakspeari 

Our  decrees. 

Dead  to  infliction,  to  themselves  are  dead  ; 

And  liberty  plucks  justice  by  the  nose. 

Shakspeare 

Multitudes  of  laws  are  signs  either  of 
Much  tyranny  in  the  prince,  or  much 
Rebellious  disobedience  in  the  subject. 

Marston 

I oft  have  heard  him  say  how  he  admir’d 
Men  of  your  large  profession,  that  could  speak 
To  every  cause,  and  things  mere  contraries 
Till  they  were  hoarse  again,  yet  all  be  law. 

Ben  Jonson 

The  good  need  fear  no  law ; 

It  is  his  safety,  and  the  bad  man’s  awe. 

Massinger 

Laws  do  not  put  the  least  restraint 
Upon  our  freedom,  but  maintain ’t; 

Or  if  it  does,  ’t  is  for  our  good. 

To  give  us  freer  latitude; 

For  wholesome  laws  preserve  us  free, 

By  stinting  of  our  liberty. 


Butler’s  Hudibrns 


360 


LAWYERS  - LEARNING. 


There  was  on  both  sides  much  to  say ; 

He ’d  hear  the  cause  another  day  ; — 

And  so  he  did  — and  then  a third 
He  heard  it  — then,  he  kept  his  word, 

But  with  rejoinders  or  replies, 

Long  bills,  and  answers  stuff’d  with  lies. 

For  sixteen  years  the  cause  was  spun. 

And  then  stood  where  it  first  begun. 

Dea>j  Swift. 

For  forms  of  government  let  fools  contest; 

Whatever’s  best  administer’d  is  best. 

Each  state  must  have  its  policies : 

Kingdoms  have  edicts,  cities  have  their  charters ; 

Even  the  wild  outlaw  in  his  forest  walk, 

Keeps  yet  some  touch  of  civil  discipline. 

No  thief  e’er  felt  the  baiter  draw, 

With  good  opinion  of  the  law,. 

Trumbull’s  McFihgaL 

Are  not  our  laws  alike  for  high  and  low? 

Or  shall  we  bind  the  poor  man  in  his  fetters, 

And  let  the  rich  go  revel  in  his  crimes  ? 

Charles  West  Thomson. 

Unjust  decrees  they  make,  end  call  them  just, 

And  we  submit  to  them  — becau,^'  we  must. 

J.  T.  Watsow. 


LA  WYERS.  — (See  Law.) 


LEARNING.  — (See  Educatio»4 


LETTERS. 


361 


LETTERS. 

Here  are  a few  of  the  unpleasant’st  words 
That  ever  blotted  paper 

Shakspeare. 

Full  oft  have  letters  caus’d  the  writers 
To  curse  the  day  they  were  inditers. 

Butler’s  Hudihraa 

Heaven  first  taught  letters  for  some  wretch’s  aid, 

Some  banish’d  lover,  or  some  captive  maid ; 

They  live,  they  speak,  they  breathe  what  love  inspires. 
Warm  from  the  soul,  and  faithful  to  its  fires ; 

The  virgin’s  wish  without  her  fears  impart, 

Excuse  the  blush,  and  pour  out  all  the  heart  — 

Speed  the  soft  intercourse  from  soul  to  soul, 

And  waft  a sigh  from  Indus  to  the  pole. 

Pope’s  Eloisa. 

The  eartn  has  nothing  like  a she  episiie, 

And  hardly  heaven  — because  it  never  ends. 

1 love  the  mystery  of  a female  missal. 

Which,  like  a creed,  ne’er  says  all  it  intends. 

. . . . . You  had  better 

Take  care  what  you  reply  to  such  a letter. 

Byron’s  Don 

Do  you  like  letter-reading  ? If  you  do, 

I have  some  twenty  dozen  very  pretty  ones ; 

Gay,  sober,  solemn,  rapturous,  very  true. 

And  very  lying  — stupid  ones  and  witty  ones  — 

On  gilt-edg’d  paper,  blue  perhaps,  or  pink, 

And  frequently  in  fancy-colour’d  ink. 

Epes  Sargfnt 

When  absent  far  from  those  we  love. 

Is  there  a charm  the  heart  can  fetter  ? 

When  years  roll  on,  and  still  we  rove, 

Is  there  no  cure  ? Oh  ! yes  — a letter. 


362 


LIBERTY -LIFE. 


When  he  had 

A letter  from  his  lady  dear,  he  bless’d 
The  paper  that  her  hand  had  travell’d  oVr, 

And  her  eyes  look’d  on ; and  would  think  he  saw 
Gleams  of  that  light  she  lavish’d  from  her  eyes, 
Wandering  amid  the  words  of  love  there  trac’d, 

Like  glow-worms  amid  buds  of  flowers. 

Bailey’s  Festu% 

Well,  Mary,  I ’ve  seen  your  nice  billet, 

It  came  unto  me  while  at  dinner; 

My  appetite  was  good  — that  did  kill  it. 

If  it  did  not,  then  Satan ’s  na  sinner ! 

I read  it,  perus’d  it,  and  scann’d  it  — 

I ponder’d,  reflected,  and  thought 
What  could  be  the  notion  that  plann’d  it? 

The  conclusion  arriv’d  at — was  nought. 

J.  T.  Watsom. 


LIBER  TY.  — (See  Freedom.) 


LIFE. 

O,  why  do  wretched  men  so  much  desire 
To  draw  their  days  unto  the  utmost  date. 

And  do  not  rather  wish  them  soon  expire, 

Knowing  the  misery  of  their  estate, 

And  thousand  perils  which  them  still  await? 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Quttn, 

Life’s  but  a walking  shadow  ; a poor  player, 
ddiat  struts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  stage, 

And  then  is  heard  no  more  ; it  is  a tale 
Told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury. 

Signifying  nothing 


Shakspeark* 


LIFE. 


3G3 


Life  is  as  tedious  as  a twice-told  tale, 

Vexing  the  dull  ear  of  a drowsy  man. 

Shakspear*. 

Oh,  how  this  spring  of  life  resembleth 
The  uncertain  glory  of  an  April  day. 

Which  now  shows  all  the  beauty  of  the  sun, 

And,  by  and  by,  a cloud  takes  all  away ! 

Shakspeare. 

We  are  such  stuff 

As  dreams  are  made  of,  and  our  little  life 
Is  rounded  with  a sleep. 

Shakspeare. 

Since  every  man  who  lives  is  born  to  die, 

And  none  can  boast  sincere  felicity, 

With  equal  mind  what  happens  let  us  bear. 

Nor  joy,  nor  grieve  for  things  beyond  our  care  ; 

Like  pilgrims,  to  th’  appointed  place  we  tend, 

The  world ’s  an  inn,  and  death  the  journey’s  end. 

Dryden. 

Who  breathes,  must  suffer  ; and  who  thinks,  must  mourn ; 
And  he  alone  is  blest,  who  ne’er  was  born. 

Prior. 

There ’s  not  a day,  but,  to  the  man  of  thought. 

Betrays  some  secret,  that  throws  new  reproach 
On  life,  and  makes  him  sick  of  seeing  more. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughta, 
Oh,  thoughtless  mortals ! ever  blind  to  fate. 

Too  soon  dejected,  and  too  soon  elate ! 

Pope 

Love,  Hope,  and  Joy,  fair  Pleasure’s  smiling  train. 

Hate,  Fear,  and  Grief,  the  family  of  Pain  ; 

J'hese,  mix’d  with  art,  and  to  due  bounds  confin’d. 

Make  and  maintain  the  balance  of  the  mind  : 

The  lights  and  shades,  whose  well-accorded  strife 
Gives  all  the  strength  and  colour  of  our  life. 

Pope’s  Essay  m Man 


364 


LIFE. 


Life  can  little  more  supply, 

Than  just  to  look  about  us  and  to  die. 

I^opk’s  Essay  on  Mwt 
For  who,  to  dumb  forgetfulness  a prey. 

This  pleasir.  T,  anxious  s|hrit  e’er  resign’d  — 

Left  the  warm  precincts  of  the  genial  day. 

Nor  cast  one  longing,  lingering  look  behind  ? 

Gray’s  Elegy. 

Catch  then,  Oh  catch  the  transient  hour. 

Improve  each  moment  as  it  flies ; 

Life’s  a short  summer  — man  a flower  — 
lie  dies,  alas  ! how  soon  he  dies  ! 

Dr.  Johnson, 

Our  youthful  summer  oft  we  see 
Dance  by  on  wings  of  game  and  glee, 

While  the  dark  storm  reserves  its  rage. 

Against  the  winter  o^’  our  age. 

Scott’s  Maimion 

Between  two  worlds  life  hovers  like  a star, 

’Twixt  night  and  morn,  upon  the  horizon’s  verge. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

Well,  well  — the  world  must  turn  upon  its  axis, 

And  all  mankind  turn  with  it,  heads  or  tails ; 

And  live  and  die,  make  love  and  pay  our  taxes, 

And,  as  the  veering  wind  shifts,  shift  our  sails. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

Who  with  the  weight  of  years  would  wish  to  bend 
When  youth  itself  survives  young  love  and  joy  ^ 

Alas ! when  mingling  souls  forget  to  blend, 

Death  has  but  little  left  him  to  destroy ! 

Byron’s  Childe  Haroh 

To  give  birth  to  those 
Who  can  but  sufTer  many  years,  and  die, 

Methinks  is  rner  dy  propagating  death 
And  multiplying  murder. 


Byron’^  C’ftm, 


Lll'E. 


365 


This  narrow  isthmus  ’twixt  two  boundless  seas, 

*rhe  PasU  the  Future  — two  eternities. 

Moork 

Life  is  a waste  of  wearisome  hours, 

Which  seldom  the  rose  of  enjoyment  adorns, 

And  the  heart,  that  is  soonest  awake  to  the  flowers. 

Is  always  the  first  to  be  touch’d  by  the  thorns. 

IVIOORE. 

They  may  rail  at  this  life  — from  the  hour  I began  it, 

I ’ve  found  it  a life  full  of  kindness  and  bliss ; 

And,  until  they  can  show  me  some  happier  planet. 

More  social  and  bright,  I ’ll  content  me  with  this. 

Moore. 

For  what  is  life  ? At  best  a brief  delight, 

A sun,  scarce  bright’ning  ere  it  sinks  in  night ; 

A flower,  at  morning  fresh,  at  noon  decay’d  ; 

A still,  swift  river,  gliding  into  shade. 

From  the  Spanish. 
And ’t  were  as  vain  a thing. 

To  ask  of  Nature  one  perpetual  spring, 

As  to  evade  those  sad  autumnal  hours. 

Or  deem  thy  path  of  life  shall  bloom,  all  flowers. 

Mrs.  Norton’s  Dream 
We  live  in  deeds,  not  years  — in  thoughts,  not  breaths  — 
In  feelings,  not  in  figures  on  a dial ; — 

We  should  count  time  by  heart-throbs.  He  most  lives, 
Who  thinks  most  — feels  the  noblest  — acts  the  best. 

• Bailey’s  Fest 

Slow  pass  our  days  in  childhood  — every  day 
Seems  like  a century  ; rapidly  they  glide 
In  manhood  ; and  in  life’s  decline  they  fly. 

W.  C.  Brya!«?J 

Fleeting  as  were  the  dreams  of  old. 

Remember’d  lilTe  a tale  that ’s  told, 

We  piss  away. 


H.  W.  Longfellow 


F JPS  - loquacity  - LOVE. 


366 


’I'hus  life  begins  — its  morning  hours 
Bright  as  the  birth-day  oC  tlie  flowers ; 

Thus  passes  like  the  leaves  away, 

As  wither’d  and  as  lost  as  they. 

S.  G.  G^odr:.<’h, 

Mope  and  fear,  peace  and  strife. 

Make  up  the  troubled  web  of  life. 

The  universal  lot. 

To  weep,  to  wander,  die,  and  be  forgot. 

Charles  Sprague. 

It  is  not  sin  to  wish  the  spirit  free 

From  the  dull  bondage  of  this  suffering  clay. 

When  every  joy,  that  charm’d  it  once,  must  be 
A hated  thing  from  which  it  turns  away. 

W.  C.  Lodgl. 

For  life,  at  best. 

Is  as  a passing  shadow  in  the  west, 

Which  still  grows  long  and  longer  till  the  last. 

When  the  sun  sinks,  and  it  from  earth  hath  past 

F.  T.  Watso.\, 


LIPS.  — (See  Eyes.) 


LOQUACITY.  — (See  Conversation.) 


LOVE. 

True  he  it  said,  whatever  man  it  said. 

That  love  with  gall  and  honey  doth  abound  , 

But  if  the  one  be  with  the  other  weigh’d, 

For  every  drachm  of  hone}-  therein  found 
A pound  of  gall  doth  over  it  redound. 

Spenser’s  lair^  Qur^ 


LOVE. 


367 


O,  gentle  Romeo, 

If  thou  dost  love,  pronounce  it  faithfully ; 

Or,  if  thou  think’s!  I am  too  quickly  won, 

I ’ll  frown,  and  be  perverse,  and  say  thee  nay, 

So  thou  wilt  woo ; but,  else,  not  for  the  world. 

SHAKSPEARI 

When  love  begins  to  sicken  and  decay, 

R.  useth  an  enforced  ceremony. 

SnAKSFEAKfc 

He  says  he  loves  my  daughter; 

I think  so  too ; for  never  gaz’d  the  moon 
Upon  the  water,  as  he  ’ll  stand  and  read. 

As ’t  were,  my  daughter’s  eyes ; and,  to  be  plain, 

I think  there  is  not  half  a kiss  to  choose. 

Which  loves  the  other  best. 

Shakspeare, 

I would  outstare  the  sternest  eyes  that  look. 

Outbrave  the  heart  most  daring  on  the  earth. 

Pluck  the  young  suckling  cub  from  the  she-bear. 

Yea,  mock  the  lion  when  he  roars  for  prey, 

To  win  thee,  lady. 

Shakspeare. 

My  love  doth  so  approve  him. 

That  even  his  stubbornness,  his  checks  and  frowns, 

Have  grace  and  favour  in  them. 

Shakspeare. 

Didst  thou  but  know  the  inly  touch  of  love. 

Thou  wouldst  as  soon  go  kindle  fire  with  snow 
As  seek  to  quench  the  fire  of  love  with  words. 

Shakspeare 

— All  made  of  fantasy; 

All  made  of  passion,  and  all  made  of  wishes ; 

A1  adoration,  duty  and  observance  ; 

All  humbleness,  all  patience  and  impatience ; 

All  purity,  all  trial,  ail 


Shakspeaub 


r>68 


LOVE. 


Lovt  looks  not  with  the  eye,  but  with  the  mind, 

And  therefore  is  wing’d  Cupid  painted  blind. 

Shakspearb 

They  do  not  love,  that  do  not  show  their  love. 

Shaksplari. 

They  love  the  least,  that  let  men  know  their  love. 

Shakspearb. 

Ah  me  ! for  aught  that  I could  ever  read, 

Could  ever  hear  by  tale  or  history. 

The  course  of  true  love  never  did  run  smooth. 

Shakspearb. 

In  love,  the  victors  from  the  vanquish’d  fly, 

They  fly  that  wound,  and  they  pursue  that  die. 

Shakspearb. 

Gluoth  he,  to  bid  me  not  to  love 
Is  to  forbid  my  pulse  to  move, 

My  beard  to  grow,  my  ears  to  stick  up. 

Or,  when  I ’m  in  a fit,  to  hiccup ! 

Butler’s  Hudibras, 

'k  Almighty  pain  to  love  it  is, 

And  ’t  is  a pain  that  pain  to  miss  : 

But,  of  all  pains,  the  greatest  pain 
It  is,  to  love,  an^  lOve  in  vain. 

Cowley’s  Anacreon. 

What  is  love  ? — An  odd  compound  of  simples  most  sweet, 
Cull’d  in  life’s  spring  by  Fancy,  poor  mortals  to  cheat ; 

A passion  no  eloquence  yet  could  improve  — 

So  a sigh  best  expresses  the  passion  of  love. 

Bate  Dudley. 

Mysterious  Love  ! uncertain  treasure. 

Hast  thou  more  of  pain  or  pleasure  ? 

Endless  torments  dwell  about  thee, 

V et  who  would  live,  and  live  without  thee  ? 


Addison. 


LOVE. 


369 


£^ve  is  not  to  be  reason’^  down,  or  lost 
in  high  ambition,  or  a thirst  of  greatness , 

’T  is  second  life  ; it  grows  into  the  soul. 

Warms  every  vein,  and  beats  in  evey  pulse. 

Addison’s  ('"ato. 

V\  hen  love ’s  well-tiin’d,  ’t  is  not  a fault  to  love  : 

The  strong,  the  brave,  the  virtuous  and  the  wise, 

Sink  in  the  soft  captivity  together. 

Addison’^ 

Let  us  love  temperately  ; things  violent  last  not ; 

And  too  much  dotage  rather  argues  folly 
Than  true  affection. 

Ma 

With  thee  conversing  I forget  all  time ; 

All  season  and  their  change,  all  please  alike. 

Milton’s  Paradxu  Lout 

I find  she  loves  him  much,  because  she  hide?  it. 

Love  teaches  cunning  even  to  innocence ; 

And  when  he  gets  possession,  his  first  work 
Is  to  dig  deep  within  the  heart  and  there 
Lie  hid,  and,  like  a miser  in  the  dark, 

To  feast  alone. 

Dryden. 

O lovf  ! thou  sternly  dost  thy  power  maintain, 

And  wilt  not  bear  a rival  in  thy  reign  ; 

Tyrants  and  thou  all  fellowship  disdain. 

I >RYDKN. 

Love  reigns  a very  tyrant  in  my  breast, 

AltendeH  on  his  throne  by  ail  his  guar  i 
Of  furious  wishes,  fears,  and  nice  suspicions. 

Otway’s  Orphan. 

ijove  is,  or  ought  to  be,  our  greatest  bliss  ; 

Since  evel-y  other  joy,  how  dear  soever, 

Gives-  way  to  tfiat,  and  we  leav3  ail  for  love. 


u 


Ruwk 


370 


LOVE. 


I.iOve  is  a }>a3sion  by  no  rules  confiird. 

The  greal  first  mover  of  the  human  mind ; . 

Spring  of  our  fate  — it  lifts  the  climbing  will. 

Or  sinks  the  soften’d  soul  in  seas  of  ill. 

Science,  truth,  virtue,  sweetness,  glory,  grace, 

Ail  own  love’s  influence,  and  adorn  his  race; 

Love,  too,  gives  fear,  despair,  grief,  anger,  strife, 

A-iid  all  th’  unnumber’d  woes  which  tempest  life. 

Aaron  lliii 

Small  is  the  soul’s  first  wound  from  beauty’s  dart. 

And  scarce  th’  unheeded  fever  warms  the  heart; 

Long  we  mistake  it  under  liklng\s‘  name, 

A soft  indulgence,  that  deserves  no  blame. 

Excited,  tho’,  the  smother’d  fire  at  length 
Bursts  into  blaze,  and  burns  with  open  strength; 

That  image,  which  before  but  sooth’d  the  mind. 

Now  lords  it  there,  and  rages  unconfin’d ; 

Mixing  with  all  our  thoughts,  it  wastes  the  day. 

And  when  night  comes,  it  dreams  the  soul  away. 

Aaron  Hill. 

Love  why  do  we  one  passion  call. 

When ’t  is  a compound  of  them  all  ? 

Where  hot  and  cold,  where  sharp  and  sweet. 

In  all  their  equipages  meet ; 

Where  pleasures  mix’d  with  pains  appear. 

Sorrow  with  joy,  and  hope  with-  fear. 

Dean  SwifT. 

Love,  thou  hast  every  bliss  in  store, 

’Tis  friendship,  and  ’t  is  something  more; 

Each  other  every  wish  they  give  — 

Not  to  know  love,  is  not  to‘  live. 

Gay’s  Fvhltg 

I love  thee,  and  1 feel 
That  in  the  fountain  of  rriy  heart  a seal 
Is  set,  to  keep  its  waters  pure  and  bright 
For  thee. 


SHELL.SV. 


LOVE. 


e3 


Til  vain  you  bid  you;*  captive  live, 

While  you  the  means  of  life  deny; 

Give  me  your  smiles,  your  wishes  give 
To  him  who  must,  without  you,  die 
Shut  from  the  sun’s  enlivening  beam, 

Bid  flowers  retain  their  scent  and  hue  ; 

Its  source  dried  up,  bid  flow  the  stream  — 

And  me  exist,  depriv’d  of  you  ! 

The  ^^adluk 


In  peace.  Love  tunes  the  shepherd’s  reed, 

In  war,  he  mounts  the  warrior’s  steed ; 

In  halls,  in  gay  attire  is  seen. 

In  hamlets,  dances  on  the  green. 

Love  rules  the  court,  the  camp,  the  grove. 

And  man  below,  and  saints  above ; 

F^or  love  is  heaven,  and  heaven  is  love ! 

Scott’s  Last  Minstrel 

But  he  who  stems  a stream  with  sand, 

And  fetters  flame  with  flaxen  band. 

Has  yet  a harder  task  to  prove  — 

By  firm  resolve  to  conquer  love. 

Scott’s  Lady  of  the  Lake. 

On  thy  fond  arm  with  pleasing  gaze  I hung, 

And  heard  sweet  music  murmur  o’er  thy  tongue; 

Hand  lock’d  in  hand,  with  gentle  ardour  prest, 
t^our’d  soft  emotions  through  the  heaving  breast ; 
in  magic  transport  heart  with  heart  entwin’d, 

And  in  sweet  languor  lost  the  melting  mind. 

1)11.  J)  WIG  nr. 


Not  vernal  showers  to  budding  flowers, 
Not  Autumn  to  the  farmer. 

So  dear  can  be  as  thou  to  me. 

My  fair,  my  lovely  charmer! 


Bi  ajs? 


372 


LOVK 


Had  we  never  lov’d  so  kindly, 

Had  we  never  lov’d  so  blindly, 

Never  met,  or  never  parted, 

VVe  had  ne’er  been  broken-hearted. 

\ BtfKKS 

Yes,  love  indeed  is  light  from  heaven, 

A spark  of  that  immortal  fire. 

With  angels  shar’d,  by  Allah  given 
To  lift  from  earth  our  low  desire. 

Byron’s  Giaour, 

He  had  ceas’d 

To  live  within  himself^  she  was  his  hie. 

The  ocean  to  the  river  of  his  thoughts. 

Which  terminated  all : upon  a tone, 

A touch  of  hers,  his  blood  would  ebb  and  flow. 

And  his  cheek  change  tempestuously. 

Byron’s  Dreamr, 

Oh,  Love ! what  is  there  in  this  world  of  ours 
Which  makes  it  fatal  to  be  lov’d  ? Ah,  why 
With  cypress  branches  hast  thou  wreath’d  thy  bowers, 
And  made  thy  best  interpreter  a sigh  ? 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

Love  will  find  its  way 

Thro'  paths  where  wolves  would  fear  to  prey. 

Byron’s  Giaour 

There  glides  a step  thro’  the  foliage  thick. 

And  her  cheek  grows  pale  — and  her  heart  beats  f^uick ; 
There  whispers  a voice  thro’  the  rustling  leaves. 

And  her  blush  returns,  and  hcT  bosom  heaves. 

Byron’s  Parish Ua. 

Sweet  Flcrence  ! could  another  ever  share 

This  wj-yward,  loveless  heart,  it  would  be  thine  ; 

But,  ‘vheci:’d  by  every  tie,  I rna}"  not  dare 
To  cast  a worthless  offering  at  thy  shrine. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold 


LCfVR 


Had  s/gh’d  to  many,  tlio’  he  lov’d  but  one, 

And  that  lov’d  one,  alas ! could  not  be  his. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 

Few  — none  find  what  they  love,  or  could  have  lov’d, 
Tho’  accident,  blind  contact,  and  the  strong 
Necessity  of  loving,  have  remov’d 
Antipathies. 

Bvron’s  Childe  Harold. 
But  sweeter  far  than  this,  than  thes( , than  all. 

Is  first  and  passionate  love  — it  stands  alone, 

Like  Adam’s  recollection  of  his  fall. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan* 

Alas ! the  love  of  woman  ! — it  is  known 
To  be  a lovely  and  a fearful  thing ; 

For  all  of  theirs  upon  that  die  is  thrown, 

And,  if  ’tis  lost,  life  hath  no  more  to  bring 
To  them,  but  mockeries  of  the  past  alone. 

Byron’s  Don  Juaru 

Man’s  love  is  of  man’s  life  a thing  apart  — 

’T  is  woman’s  whole  existence. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

For  glances  beget  ogles,  ogles  sighs. 

Sighs  wishes,  wishes  words,  and  words  a letter : 

And  then  God  knows  what  mischief  may  arise. 

When  love  links  two  young  people  in  one  fetter. 

Byron’s  Beppo 

But  they  were  young ; Oh  ! what,  without  our  youth. 
Would  love  be  ? — what  would  youth  be  without  love 
Youth  lerds  it  joy  and  sweetness,  vigour,  truth. 

Heart,  soul,  and  all  that  seems  as  from  above. 

But,  languishing  with  years,  it  grows  uncouth, 

One  of  those  things  experience  don’t  improve. 

Byron’s  Bep}/C 

Why  did  she  love  him  ? Curious  fool,  be  still : — 
b human  love  the  growth  of  human  will  ? 


Byron’s  Lar$ 


374 


LOfE. 


A love  still  all  unquench’d, 

T3\velling  deep  in  my  shut  and  sihmt  heart, 

As  dwells  the  gather’d  lightning  in  its  cloud. 

Encompass’d  in  its  dark  and  rolling  shroud. 

Till  struck  — forth  flies  the  all  ethereal  dart. 

Byron’s  Lament  of  Tasta 
Yes,  it  was  love,  if  thoughts  of  tenderness 
Tried  in  temptation,  strongest  by  distress. 

Unmov’d  by  absence,  firm  in  every  clime. 

And  yet,  O ! more  than  all ! — untir’d  by  time  ; 

Which  nought  remov’d,  nor  menac’d  to  remove  — 

If  there  be  love  in  mortals,  this  was  love. 

Byron’s  Corsair 

There  are  ten  thousand  tones  and  signs. 

We  hear  and  see,  but  none  defines  — 

Involuntary  sparks  of  thought. 

Which  strike  from  out  the  heart  o’erwrought. 

And  form  a strange  intelligence, 

Alike  mysterious  and  intense  — 

W'hich  link  the  burning  chain  that  binds. 

Without  their  will,  young  hearts  and  minds; 

Conveying,  as  the  electric  wire, 

We  know  not  how,  the  absorbing  fire. 

Byron’s  Mazeppa. 

And  all  our  dreams  of  better  life  above, 

But  close  in  one  eternal  gush  of  love. 

Byron’s  Island. 

Oh ! what  was  love  made  for,  if ’t  is  not  the  same 
Through  joy  and  through  sorrow — through  glory  and  shame  1 

Moore. 

The  bee  thro’  many  a garden  roves. 

And  hums  the  lay  of  courtship  o’er. 

But,  when  he  finds  the  flower  he  loves, 

H?  settles  there,  and  hums  no  more. 


Moore. 


LOVE- 


375 


Oh  nature  ! thong!  blessed  and  bright  are  thy  rays, 

O’er  the  brow  of  creation  eachaatingly  thrown, 

Yet  faint  are  they  all  to  the  lustre  that  plays 

Ir.  a smile  from  the  heart  that  is  dearly  our  own  ! 

Moorf 

ItOY'r  was,  to  his  impassion’d  soul, 

Not,  as  with  others,  a mere  part 
Of  his  existence,  but  the  whole. 

The  very  life-breath  of  his  heart ! 

Moore’s  Loves  of  the  JingtU 

To  feel  that  we  adore 
To  such  refin’d  excess. 

That,  tho’  the  heart  would  burst  with  more. 

We  could  not  live  v’vith  less. 

Moore. 

Oh  ! there ’s  nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life 
As  love’s  young  dream. 

Moore. 

O,  that  hallow’d  form  is  ne’er  forgot, 

Which  first  love  trac’d ; 

Still  it,  lingering,  haunts  the  greenest  spot 
In  memory’s  waste 

Moore. 

Tell  him,  for  5^ears  1 never  nurs’d  a thought 
That  wrs  not  his  ; that  on  his  wandering  way. 

Daily  and  nightly,  pour’d  a mourner’s  prayer. 

Tell  him,  even  now  that  I would  rather  share 
His  lowliest  lot  — walk  by  his  side,  an  outcast  — 

Work  for  him,  beg  with  him  — live  upon  the  light 
Of  one  kind  smile  from  him,  than  wear  a crown. 

Bulwer’s  Lady  of  Lyons 
Lov<‘  buys  not  with  the  ruthless  usurer’s  gold 
The  loathsome  prostitution  of  a hand 
V/ithout  a heart.  Love  sacrifices  all  things 
To  bless  the  thing  it  loves. 


Bulwer’s  Lady  of  Lyons 


376 


LOVK 


Oh  ! were  my  lo  re  a jlossorn, 

When  summer  sk'ws  depart, 

I M plant  her  in  my  bosom, 

And  wear  her  near  my  heart ! 

Dear  art  thou  to  me  now  as  in  that  hour, 

When  first  love’s  wave  of  feeling,  s])ray-like,  broke 

Into  bright  utterance,  and  we  said  we  lov’d  ! 

Bailey’s  Festus. 

lio!  all  the  elements  of  love  are  here  — 

The  burning  blush,  the  smile,  the  sigh,  the  tear. 

Bailey’’s  Festns 

Love  ? — I will  tell  thee  what  it  is  to  love  : — 

It  is  to  build  with  human  thoughts  a shrine, 

Vvhere  Hope  sits  brooding  like  a beauteous  dove  — 
Where  time  seems  young,  and  life  a thing  divine  ; . . . 

Yes,  this  is  love  — the  steadfast  and  the  true. 

The  immortal  glory  which  hath  never  set : 

The  best,  the  brightest  boon  the  heart  e’er  knew  — 

Of  all  life’s  sweets,  the  very  sweetest  yet ! 

Charles  Sv/aik 

Friendship’s  young  bloom  may  pass  away, 

As  dreams  depart  the  sleeper’s  mind  ; 

The  hopes  cf  life’s  maturer  day 

May  fad^j  and  leave  no  trace  behind. 

But  early  love  can  never  die  — 

That  fairest  bud  of  spring’s  bright  years ; 

’T  will  still  look  green  in  memory. 

When  time  all  other  feeling  sears. 


Like  the  lone  bird  that  flutters  her  pinrorr, 
And  warbles  in  bondage  her  strain, 

I have  struggled  to  fly  thy  dominion, 

But  find  that  the  struggle  is  vain. 


George  P Morris 


LOVE. 


377 


Oh,  sigh  not  for  love,  if  you  wish  not  to  know 
Every  torment  that  waits  on  us  mortals  below ; — 
If  you  fain  would  avoid  all  the  dangers  and  snares 
That  aUemd  human  life,  and  escape  ail  its  cares. 


No,  thou  wert  not  my  first  love, 

I ’d  lov’d  before  we  met, 

And  learn’d  to  shed  the  bitter  tear 
Of  anguish  and  regret. 

Miss  L.  E.  Lanhon. 

Love  ! thou  art  not  a king  alone, 

Both  slave  and  king  thou  art ! 

Who  seeks  to  sway  must  stoop  to  own 
The  kingdom  of  the  heart. 

The  New  Timon 

Our  very  wretchedness  grows  dear  to  us. 

When  suffering  for  one  we  love. 

The  Yew  Timon, 

So  gaze  met  gaze, 

And  heart  saw  heart,  translucid  through  the  rays. 

One  same,  harmonious,  universal  law. 

Atom  to  atom,  star  to  star  can  draw. 

And  heart  to  heart ! Swift  darts,  as  from  the  sun. 

The  strong  attraction,  and  the  charm  is  done ! 

The  New  Timon, 

To  say  he  lov’d. 

Was  to  affirm  what  oft  his  eye  avouch’d. 

What  many  an  action  testified ; and  yet. 

What  wanted  confirmation  of  his  tongue. 

J.  Sheridan  Knowles. 

Love  is  a star,  whose  gentle  ray 
Beains  constant  o’er  our  lonely  way; 

Love  is  a gem,  whose  pearly  light 
Oft  cliarms  us  in  the  darkest  night. 


Saturday  Courier. 


378 


LOVL. 


Oh  ! would  that  love  were  ever  still  the  same-— 
Unchang’d,  unbiass’d,  constant  and  sincere  ; 

Would  that  the  heart,  that  owns  a sacred  flame, 

Might  never  dim  its  brightness  with  a tear ! 

But  human  hearts,  alas  ! too  often  show 

That  love  may  sometimes  banquet  upon  wo. 

Dawes’  Geraldine 

Love  not,  love  not  — the  thing  you  love  may  change, 

I'he  rosy  lip  may  cease  to  smile  on  you ; 

The  kindly  beaming  eye  grow  cold  and  strange, 

The  heart  still  warmly  beat,  and  not  for  you. 

Mrs.  Norton 

Ere  yet  my  boyhood’s  years  had  flown, 

I gaz’d  on  thee  as  some  fair  star, 

And  wildly  worshipp’d  as  it  shone 
Above  my  humble  world  afar. 

But  while  I gaz’d  and  still  ador’d, 

On  bolder  wings  wrapt  Fancy  soar’d. 

To  make  that  bright  and  blissful  sphere  mine  own. 

Fry’s  Leonora 

I dare  not  linger  near  thee,  as  a brother, 

I feel  my  burning  heart  would  still  be  thine; 

How  could  I hope  my  passionate  thoughts  to  smothei, 

When  yielding  all  the  sweetness  to  another 
Which  should  be  mine  ! 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Welby. 

For  love,  at  first,  is  but  a dreamy  thing. 

That  slily  nestles  in  the  human  lieart, 

A morr.ing  lark,  which  never  plumes  his  wing 
Till  hopes  and  fears,  like  lights  and  shadows,  part. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B,  Welbf 

Love  drew  your  image  on  “my  heart  of  hearts,” 

And  memory  preserves  it  beautiful. 


Mrs.  Osgood. 


LUST. 


379 


Sincere  ! When  da}  and  night  fail  to  succeed  — 

When  the  stars  shall  all  fall,  and  the  earth  cease  to  move-» 
When  the  wolf  and  the  lambkin  together  shall  feed, 

And  truth  turn  to  error  — then,  then  doubt  my  love ! 

But.  as  long  as  cold  chills  us  — as  long  as  fire  burns  — 

As  long  as  his  spots  to  the  leopard  adhere  — 

As  long  as  the  needle  to  its  dear  North  pole  turns  — 

As  long  as  there ’s  Truth  — call  it  not  insincere  ! 

J.  T.  Watson 

That  love  is  sordid  which  doth  need 
Gold’s  filthy  dust  its  fires  to  feed : 

That  acts  a higher,  nobler  part, 

Which  comes,  unfetter’d,  from  the  heart. 

J.  T.  Watson 


LUST. 

Call  it  not  Love,  for  love  to  heaven  is  fled, 

Since  sweating  Lust  on  earth  usurps  her  name ; 

Under  whose  simple  semblance  he  hath  fed 
Upon  fresh  beauty,  blotting  it  with  blame. 

Shakspeark. 

Love  comforteth  like  sunshine  after  rain, 

But  Lust’s  effect  is  tempest  after  sun  ; 

Love’s  gentle  spring  doth  always  fresh  remain. 

Lust’s  winter  comes  ere  summer  half  be  done  ; 

Love  surfeits  not  — Lust,  like  a glutton,  dies  ; 

Love  is  all  truth  — Lust  full  of  foulest  lies. 

Shakspear* 

But  Beauty,  like  the  fair  Hesperian  tree 
Laden  with  blooming  gold,  doth  need  the  guard 
Of  dragon-watch,  with  unenchanted  eye. 

To  save  her  blossoms,  and  defend  her  fruit 
Prom  the  rash  hand  of  bold  Incontinence. 

Milton’s  Comm. 


LUST. 


Bui  when  I^ust  . • 

Lets  in  defilement  to  the  inward  parts, 

The  soul  grows  clotted  by  contagion, 

Imbodies  and  imbrutes,  till  she  quite  lose 
The  divine  property  of  her  first  being. 

Milton’s  Comut 

Lust  is,  of  all  the  frailties  of  our  nature, 

What  most  we  ought  to  fear;  the  headstrong  beast 
Rushes  along,  impatient  of  the  course  ; 

Nor  hears  the  rider’s  call,  nor  feels  the  rein. 

RoWI4 

There  are  in  love  the  extremes  of  touch'd  desire  — 

The  noblest  brightness,  or  the  coarsest  fire ; 

In  vulgar  bosoms  vulgar  wishes  move, 

Nature  guides  choice,  and,  as  men  think,  they  love. 

In  the  loose  passion  men  profane  the  name, 

Mistake  the  purpose,  and  pollute  the  flame; 

In  nobler  bosoms,  friendship’s  form  it  takes, 

And  sex  alone  the  lovely  difference  makes. 

Aaron  Hiii.. 

Oh,  lost  to  honour’s  voice  ! Oh,  doom’d  to  shame  ! 

Thou  fiend  accurst ! thou  murderer  of  fame  ! 

* ^ * From  innocence  to  tear 

That  name,  than  liberty,  than  life  more  dear. 

Where  shall  thy  baseness  meet  its  just  return  ? v 
Or  what  repay  thy  guilt,  but  endless  scorn  ? 

Pope. 

Within  the  heart  which  Love  illumes. 

And  blesses  with  his  sacred  rays. 

If.  meaner  passion  e’er  presumes. 

It  fades  before  the  hallow’d  blaze. 

Cobb. 

Infected  with  that  leprosy  of  lust 

Which  taints  the  hoari^t  years  of  vicious  men, 

Making  tPfun  ransack,  to  the  very  last. 

The  dregs  of  pleasure  for  their  vanish’d  joys. 

Byron’s  Marino  Faiiero. 


LUXURY. 


381 


LUXURY. 


And,  ’tv/ixt  his  finger  and  his  thumb  he  held 
A perfume-box,  which,  ever  and  anon, 

He  gave  his  nose,  and  took ’t  away  again. 

Shakspeaejs. 

What  will  not  luxury  use  ? Earth,  sea,  and  air, 

Are  daily  ransack’d  for  the  bill  of  fare  ; 

Blood  stuff’d  in  skins  is  British  Christians’  food. 

And  France  robs  marshes  of  the  croaking  brood 

Gay’s  Frivia* 

If  every  just  man,  that  now  pines  with  want. 

Had  but  a moderate  and  beseeming  share 
Of  that  which  lewdly  pamper’d  Luxury 
Now  heaps  upon  some  few  with  vast  excess. 

Nature’s  full  blessings  would  be  well  dispens’d, 

And  then  the  Giver  would  be  better  thank’d. 

Milton’s  Comm. 

War  destroys  man,  but  luxury,  mankind  — 

At  once  corrupts  the  body  and  the  mind. 

Crown’s  Caligula. 

Then,  since  the  time  we  have  to  live 
In  this  world  is  so  short,  we  ’ll  strive 
To  make  our  best  advantage  of  it. 

And  pay  our  losses  with  our  profit. 

Butler’s  Nudibrm 

Wine  and  beauty,  thus  inviting. 

Each  to  different  joys  exciting, 

Whither  shall  my  choice  incline? 

I ’ll  waste  no  longer  thought  in  choosing. 

But  neither  this  nor  that  refusing, 

I’ll  make  them  both  together  mine  ^ 


GoLDSMrffH* 


382 


LT  XrRY. 


0 luxury  ! thou  curs’d  by  heaven’s  decree, 

How  ill-exchang’d  are  things  like  these  for  thee? 

How  do  thy  potions,  with  insidious  joy, 

Diffuse  their  pleasures  only  to  destroy  ! 

Goldsmiik’s  Dps^rfed  Jlllagt 
And  such  dainties  to  them,  their  health  it  might  hurt ; 

It’s  like  sending  them  ruffles,  when  wanting  a shin. 

Goldsmith. 

Fell  luxury  ! more  perilous  to  youth 

Than  storms  or  quicksands,  poverty  or  chains  ! 

Hannah  More. 

What  though  on  hamely  fare  we  dine. 

Wear  hodden-grey,  and  a’  that? 

Give  fools  their  silks,  and  knaves  their  wine, 

A man ’s  a man  for  a’  that. 

Burns. 

Sofas,  ’t  was  half  a sin  to  sit  upon. 

So  costly  were  they ; carpets,  every  stitch 
Of  workmanship  so  rare,  they  made  you  wish 
You  could  glide  o’er  them  like  a golden  fish. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

All  that  can  eye  or  sense  delight. 

Were  gather’d  in  that  gorgeous  sight. 

Byron’s  Giaour 

What  though  they  tell,  with  phizzes  long, 

My  years  are  sooner  past ! 

1 would  reply,  with  reason  strong. 

They  ’re  sweeter  while  they  last. 

Charles  Sprague. 

But  this  I know,  and  this  I feel. 

As  onward  to  the  tomb  I steal, 

Ttiat  still,  as  death  approaches  nearer. 

The  joys  of  life  are  sweeter  dearer; 

And,  had  1 but  one  hour  to  live. 

That  ittle  hour  to  biiss  1 ’d  give  ! 


Moore’s 


MADNESS 


383 


One  little  hour  of  joy  to  me 
Is  worth  a dull  eternity. 

Moore’s  Jinacrto^ 
While  the  perfum’d  lights 
Stole  thro’  the  mists  of  alabaster  lamps, 

An  I every  air  was  heavy  with  the  sighs 
Of  orange  groves,  and  music  from  sweet  lutes. 

And  murmurs  of  low  fountains  that  gush’d  forth 
V the  midst  of  roses. 

Bulwer’s  Lady  of  Lyons. 


MADNESS. 

Oh  what  a noble  mind  is  here  o’erthrown  ! 

The  courtier’s,  scholar’s,  soldier’s,  eye,  tongue,  sword, 

Th’  expectancy  and  rose  of  the  fair  state. 

The  glass  of  fashion  and  the  mould  of  form, 

The  observ’d  of  all  observers  1 — quite,  quite  down  ! 

Shakspeare. 

Better  I were  distract : 

So  should  my  thoughts  be  sever’d  from  my  griefs. 

And  woes,  by  strong  imagination,  lose 
The  knowledge  of  themselves. 

Shakspeare. 

I am  not  mad  ; — 1 would  to  heaven  I were  ! 

For  then,  ’t  is  like,  I should  forget  myself ; 

O Mf  I could,  what  griefs  should  I forget ! 

Shakspeak*. 

There  is  a pleasure  in  being  mad. 

Which  none  but  madmen  know 

Dkyeen. 

His  lips  do  move  with  inward  mutterings. 

And  his  fix’d  eye  is  riveted  fearfully 
(3n  something  that  no  other  sight  can  see. 

Maturin’s  Bertram. 


e384 


Maledictions  - m a itce  - man. 


O this  poor  brain  ! ten  thousand  shapes  of  fury 
Are  whirling  there,  and  reason  is  no  more. 

FiFLDIFfft 

This  wretched  brain  gave  way, 

And  I became  a wreck,  at  random  driven, 

VVithnut  one  glimpse  of  reason  or  of  heaven. 

Moore’s  liooka  « 


MALEDICTIONS.  — (See  Curses. I 


MALICE.  — (See  Enemy.) 


MAN. 

This  is  the  state  of  man  : — to-day'  he  puts  forth 
The  tender  leaves  of  hope,  to-morrow  blossoms. 

And  bears  his  blushing  honours  thick  upon  him, 

I'he  third  day  comes  a frost  — a killing  frost. 

Shakspeare 

In  the  sw^eat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread. 

Till  thou  return  unto  the  ground;  for  tnou 
Out  of  the  ground  wast  taken  ; know  thy  birth. 

For  dust  thou  art,  and  shalt  to  dust  return.  ^ 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost, 
Men  are  but  children  of  a larger  grow^th ; 

Our  appetites  are  apt  to  change  as  theirs. 

And  full  as  craving  too.  and  full  as  vain, 

DRfrr^^ 

% ri.n  human  kind  ! fantastic  race  \ 

4'h^  various  follies  w^ho  can  trace? 

S'^li  uve,  ambition,  envy,  priie, 

I'hen  t mpire  in  our  hearts  divide. 


Dean  Swift 


MAN. 


385 


Fond  man  ! the  vision  of  a moment  made ! 

Dream  of  a dream ! and  shadow  of  a shade  ! 

Younw. 

How  poor,  how  rich,  how  abject,  how  august, 

How  complicate,  how  wonderful  is  man ! 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 
At  thirty,  man  suspects  himself  a fool. 

Knows  it  at  forty,  and  reforms  his  plans ; 

At  fifty,  chides  his  infamous  delay. 

Pushes  his  proudest  purpose  to  resojve ; 

In  all  the  magnanimity  of  thought 
Resolves  and  re-resolves  — then  dies  the  same. 

Young’s  Night  Thougnis, 

Poor  pensioner  on  the  bounties  of  an  hour. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts, 

How  falsely  is  the  spaniel  drawn  ! 

Did  man  from  him  first  learn  to  fawn? 

Go,  man  ! the  ways  of  courts  discern, 

You’ll  find  a spaniel  still  might  learn. 

How  can  the  fox’s  theft  and  plunder 
Provoke  man’s  censure  or  his  wonder? 

From  courtiers’  tricks,  and  lawyers’  arts. 

The  fox  might  well  improve  his  parts. 

The  lion,  wolf,  and  tiger’s  brood 
He  curses  for  their  love  of  blood  : 

But  is  not  man  to  man  a prey? 

Beasts  kill  for  hunger,  men  for  pay. 

Gay's  Fahhb, 

Each  animal, 

By  natural  instinct  taught,  spares  his  own  kind  ; 

But  man,  the  tyrant  man,  revels  at  large. 

Freebooter  unrestrain’d,  destroys  at  will 
The  whole  creation,  men  and  beasts  his  prey. 

These  for  his  pleasure,  for  his  glory  those. 

SoMKRviLE  s Field  Sports 


25 


886 


MAN 


Mankind  one  day  serene  and  (leo  appear ; 

The  /lext  they  ’re  cloudy,  sullen  and  severe ; 

New  passions,  new  o[)inions  still  excite. 

And  what  they  like  at  noon  they  leave  at  night, 

GaKTIi 

Oh  ! frail  inconstancy  of  mortal  state  ! 

One  hour  dejected  and  the  next  elate  ! 

Rais’d  by  false  hopes,  or  by  false  fears  depresl, 

How  different  passions  sway  the  human  breast ! 

PArnauw. 

A man  so  various  that  he  seem’d  to  be 
Not  one  but  all  mankind’s  epitome. 

Stiff  in  opinion,  always  in  the  wrong, 

Was  everything  by  starts,  and  nothing  long 
But  in  the  course  of  one  revolving  moon. 

Was  chymist,  fiddler,  statesman  and  buffoon  ; 

Then  all  for  women,  painting,  rhyming,  drinking, 

Besides  ten  thousand  freaks  that  died  in  thinking. 

Spectator, 

The  way  to  conquer  men  is  by  their  passions : 

Catch  but  the  ruling  foible  of  their  hearts, 

And  all  their  boasted  virtues  shrink  before  you. 

Tolson. 

Man  is  a very  worm  by  birth, 

Vile,  reptile,  weak  and  vain  ; 

Awhile  he  crawls  upon  the  earth, 


Then  sinks  to  earth  again. 


In  every  breast  there  burns  an  active  flame. 

The  love  of  glory,  or  the  dread  of  shame. 

PoPK> 

PoFE. 

Created  half  to  rise,  or  half  to  fall, 

Great  lord  of  all  things,  yet  a prey  to  all ; 

Sole  judge  of  truth,  in  endless  error  hurl’d, 

Tlie  glory,  jest,  and  riddle  of  the  world. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man. 


MAN. 


387 


Behold  the  child,  by  nature’s  kindly  law, 

Pleas’d  vvitli  a rattle,  tickled  with  a straw ; 

Some  livelier  plaything  gives  his  youth  delight, 

A little  louder,  but  as  empty  quite  ; — 

Scarfs,  garters,  gold,  amuse  his  riper  stage. 

And  beads  and  prayer-books  are  the  toys  of  age. 

Pleas’d  with  this  bauble  still,  as  that  before. 

Till  tired,  he  sleeps,  and  life  can  charm  no  more. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 

When  the  proud  steed  shall  know  why  man  restrains 
His  fiery  course,  or  drives  him  o’er  the  plains. 

When  the  dull  ox,  why  now  he  breaks  the  clod, 

Is  now  a victim,  and  now  Egypt’s  God ; — 

Then  shall  man’s  pride  and  dulness  comprehend 
His  actions’,  passions’,  being’s,  use  and  end. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 
How  few  are  found  with  real  talents  bless’d  ! 

Fewer  with  nature’s  gifts  contented  rest. 

Man  from  his  sphere  eccentric  starts  astray ; 

All  hunt  for  fame,  but  most  mistake  the  way. 

Churchill. 

The  mind  of  man  is  vastly  like  a hive ; 

His  thoughts  so  busy  ever  — all  alive  ! 

But  here  the  simile  will  go  no  further ; 

For  bees  are  making  honey,  one  and  ail ; 

Man’s  thoughts  are  busy  in  producing  gall. 

Committing  daily,  as  it  were\  self-murder. 

Dr.  Wolcot’s  Peter  Pindar 
’Tis  man’s  pride. 

His  highest,  woithiest,  noblest  boast. 

The  privilege  he  prizes  most. 

To  stand  by  helpless  woman’s  side. 

Mrs.  Holford’s  Margaret  of  Anjou 
Nature  ne’er  meant  her  secrets  to  be  found. 

And  man ’s  a riddle  which  man  can’t  expound. 

R.  T.  Pa  INK 


388 


MAN. 


Man ’s  at  the  best  a creature  frail  and  vain, 

In  knowledge  ignorant,  in  strength  but  weak ; 

Subject  to  sorrow,  losses,  sickness,  pain, 

Each  storm  his  state,  his  mind,  his  body  break. 

Mrs.  Bradstrlei 

What  tho’  the  generous  cow  give  me  to  quaff 
The  milk  nutritious  ; — am  I then  a calf? 

JoEi  Barlow. 

Smile  on,  nor  venture  to  unmask 
Man’s  heart,  and  view  the  hell  that ’s  there. 

Bit  RON. 

Man ’s  a phenomenon,  one  knows  not  what. 

And  wonderful  beyond  ail  wondrous  measure  ; 

’T  is  pity  tho’,  in  this  sublime  world,  that 

Pleasure ’s  a sin,  and  sometimes  sin ’s  a pleasure 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

Men  are  the  sport  of  Circumstances  when 
The  circumstances  seem  the  sport  of  men. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

Man’s  a strange  animal,  and  makes  strange  use 
Of  his  own  nature  and  the  various  aits. 

And  likes  particularly  to  produce 

Some  new  experiments  to  show  his  parts. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

That  which  I am,  I am  ; I did  not  seek 
For  life,  nor  did  I make  myself. 

Byron’s  Cain. 

Admire,  exult,  despise,  laugh,  weep,  — for  here 
There  is  much  matter  for  all  feeling : — Man  ! 

Thou  pendulum  betwixt  a smile  and  tear ! 

Byron’s  Childe  flaroU 

But  like  the  tender  rose,  men  soon  decay, 

They  bloom,  they  wither,  die,  and  pass  away. 

J.  T.  Watson. 


MATRIMONY  - WEDLOCK, 


389 


MATRIMONY  — W EDLOCK. 

From  that  day  forth,  in  peace  and  joyous  bliss, 

They  liv’d  together  long  without  debate ; 

Nor  private  jars,  nor  spite  of  enemies. 

Could  shake  the  safe  assurance  of  their  state. 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Queeti 

Marriacre  is  a matter  of  more  worth 

& 

Than  to  be  dealt  in  by  attorneyship. 

Shakspeark 

What  is  wedlock  forced,  but  a hell. 

An  age  of  discord  and  continual  strife  ? 

Whereas  the  contrary  bringeth  forth  bliss. 

And  is  a pattern  of  celestial  peace. 

Shakspeafjc. 

The  hour  of  marriage  ends  the  female  reign. 

And  we  give  all  we  have  to  buy  a chain ; 

Hire  men  to  be  our  lords,  who  were  our  slaves, 

And  bribe  our  lovers  to  be  perjur’d  knaves. 

CrowNo 

The  husband ’s  sullen,  dogged,  sh}^ 

The  wife  grows  flippant  in  reply ; 

He  loves  command  and  due  restriction, 

And  she  as  well  likes  contradiction. 

She  never  slavishly  submits; 

She  ’ll  have  her  will,  or  have  her  fits  ; 

He  this  way  tugs,  she  that  way  draws,  ^ 

And  both  find  fault  with  equal  cause. 

Gay’s  Fcd.les, 

Marriage  to  maids  is  like  a war  to  men  ; 

The  battle  causes  fear,  but  the  sweet  hopes 
Of  winning  at  the  last,  still  draws  ’em  in. 

Nat  Lejk 


390 


MATRIMONY  - WEDLOCK. 


Are  we  not  one  ? Are  we  not  join’d  by  heaven  ? 

Each  interwoven  with  the  otherV  fate  ? 

Are  we  not  mix’d  li^e  streams  ol  meeting  rivers. 

Whose  blended  waters  are  no  more  distinguish’d, 

But  rol’  into  the  sea  one  common  flood  ? 

Rowi 

Though  fools  spurn  Flymen’s  gentle  powers, 

We,  who  improve  his  golden  hours. 

By  sweet  experience  know 
That  marriage,  rightly  understood, 

Gives  to  the  tender  and  the  good 
A Paradise  below. 

Cotton 

O marriage  ! marriage  ! what  a curse  is  thine. 

Whose  hands  alone  consent,  and  hearts  abhor  ! 

Aaron  Hill 

There  have  been  wedlock’s  joys  of  swift  decay. 

Like  lightning,  seen  at  once,  and  shot  away ; 

But  theirs  were  hopes,  which,  all  unfit  to  pair. 

Like  fire  and  powder,  kiss’d,  and  flash’d  to  air. 

Thy  soul  and  mine,  by  mutual  courtship  won, 

Meet  like  two  mingling  flames,  and  make  but  one. 

Union  of  hearts,  not  hands,  does  marriage  make. 

And  sympathy  of  mind  keeps  love  awake. 

Aaron  Hill. 

Then  let  Hymen  oft  appear. 

In  saffron  robes,  with  taper  clear. 

With  pomp,  and  feast,  and  revelry. 

With  mask,  and  antique  pageantry. 

Milton 

Wedded  love  is  founded  on  esteem, 

Which  the  fair  merits  of  the  mind  engage. 

For  those  are  charms  which  never  can  decay; 

But  time,  which  gives  new  whiteness  to  the  swan. 
Improves  their  lustre. 


Fenton 


MATRIMONY  - M KULC'CK 


391 


ks  spiders  never  seek  the  fly, 

But  leaves  him  of  himself  t’  apply, 

So  men  are  by  themselves  employ’d 
I'o  quit  the  freedom  they  enjoy’d, 

And  run  their  necks  into  a noose. 

They ’d  break  ’em  after  to  get  loose, 

Butler’s  Hudibra  i 

And  after  matrimony’s  over, 
tie,  that  remains  but  half  a lo/er, 

Deserves,  for  every  minute,  more 
Than  half  a year  of  love  before 

Butler’s  Hudibra^ 

But  happy  they,  the  happiest  of  their  kind  ! 

Whom  gentle  stars  unite,  and  in  one  late 
Their  hearts,  their  fortunes,  and  their  beings  blend. 

Thomson’s  Seasons 

What  is  the  world  to  them, 

Its  pomp,  its  pleasure,  and  its  nonsense  all, 

Who  in  each  other  clasp  whatever  fair 
High  fancy  forms,  and  lavish  hearts  can  wish  ? 

Thomson’s  Seasons. 

Thou  art  the  nurse  of  virtue.  In  thine  arms 
She  smiies,  appearing,  as  in  truth  she  is. 

Heaven-born,  and  destin’d  to  the  skies  again. 

Cowper’s  Task, 

Wedlock ’s  a saucy,  sad,  familiar  state. 

Where  folks  are  very  apt  to  scold  and  hate. 

Dr.  Wolcot’s  Peter  Pindar, 
No  jealousy  their  dawn  of  love  o’ercast, 

Nor  blasted  were  their  wedded  days  with  strife ; 

Each  season  look’d  delightful  as  it  past. 

To  the  fond  husband,  and  the  faithful  wife. 

Beattie’s  Minst  ft 

Tbr-  bloom  or  blight  of  all  men’s  happiness. 

Bv Ron’s  Bride  oj  Ahylos,  \ 


392 


MATRIMONY  - W EDLOCK 


To  cheer  thy  sickness,  watch  thy  health, 

Partake,  but  never  waste  thy  wealth, 

Or  stand  with  smile  unn.urrnuring  by. 

And  lighten  half  thy  poverty. 

Byron’s  Bride  of  Mydo^ 

They  liv’d  together  as  most  people  do. 

Suffering  each  other’s  foibles  by  accord. 

And  not  exactl}^  either  one  or  two. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 

Wishing  each  other,  not  divorc’d,  but  dead. 

They  liv’d  respectably  as  man  and  wife. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 

No  power  in  death  shall  tear  our  names  apart. 

As  none  in  life  could  rend  thee  from  my  heart 

Byron’s  JMment  of  Tasso 

There ’s  a bliss  beyond  all  that  the  minstrel  has  told. 

When  two,  that  are  link’d  in  one  heavenly  tie. 

With  heart  never  changing,  and  brow  never  cold, 

Love  on  thro’  all  ills,  and  love  on  till  they  die. 

One  hour  of  a passion  so  sacred  is  worth 

Whole  ages  of  heartless  and  wandering  bliss ; 

And  Oh  ! if  there  be  an  Elysium  on  earth, 

It  is  this  — it  is  this  ! 

Moore’s  Lalla  Rookh. 

To  love,  to  bliss,  their  blended  souls  were  given. 

And  each,  too  happy,  ask’d  no  brighter  heaven. 

Dr.  Dwigh-/. 

And  if  division  come,  it  soon  is  past. 

Too  sliarp,  too  strange  an  agony  to  last ! 

And,  like  some  river’s  bright,  abundant  tide, 

Wliich  art  or  accident  hath  forc’d  aside, 

The  well-springs  of  affection,  gushing  o’er 
Pack  to  their  natural  channels  flow  once  morf> 

Mrs.  Norton’s 


MECHANIC  - MEDICINE  - MEEKNESS,  &c. 


393 


Then  come  the  wild  weather  — come  sleet  cir  come  snow, 
We  will  stand  by  each  other,  however  it  blow^  ; 

Oppression,  and  sickness,  and  sorrow  and  pain, 

Shall  be  to  our  true  love  as  links  to  the  chain. 

Longfellow  — From  thf^  German, 
Oh,  pleasant  is  the  welcome  kiss 
When  day’s  dull  round  is  o’er, 

< And  sweet  the '•music  of  the  step 
That  meets  us  at  the  door. 

J.  R.  Drake. 

Tho’  close  the  link  that  bound  them,  yet  hath  heaven 
A closer  tie  to  the  true-hearted  given,  j 

Mrs.  C.  H.  W.  Esling, 


MECHANIC.  — (See  Blacksmith.) 


MEDICINE.  — (See  Disease.) 


MEEKNESS  — MILDNESS. 

01  manners  gentle,  of  affections  mild, 

In  wdt,  a man  — simplicity,  a child. 

Pops. 

Though  sprightly,  gentle  ; though  polite,  sincere  ; 

And  only  of  thyself  a judge  severe. 

Beatttk. 

She  was  a soft  landscape  of  mild  earth, 

VVhere  all  was  harmony  and  calm  and  quiet, 

Luxuriant,  budding. 

Byron 

With  a spirit  as  meek  as  the  gentlest  of  those 
Who  in  life’?  sunny  valley  lie  shelter’d  and  warm 


Moore. 


394 


MEETING. 


Her  bonnie  face  it  was  as  meek 
As  ony  lamb  upon  a lee ; 

The  evening  sun  was  ne’er  sae  svveet 
As  was  the  blink  o’  Phemie’s  e’e. 

She  bore  herself 
So  gently,  that  the  lily  on  its  stalk 
Bends  not  so  easily  its  dewy  head.  ^ 


Burns 


J.  G.  Percival. 


The  one  presiding  feature  in  her  mind 
Was  the  pure  meekness  of  a will  resign’d, 
A tender  spirit,  freed  from  all  pretence 
Of  wit,  and  pleas’d  in  mild  benevolence. 


MEETING. 

Sir,  you  are  very  welcome  to  our  house ; 

It  must  appear  in  other  ways  than  words, 

Therefore  I scant  this  breathing  courtesy. 

Shakspeare. 

A hundred  thousand  welcomes  ! I could  weep. 

And  I could  laugh ; I ’m  light  and  heavy  : weicorne  ! 

Shakspeare. 


I sware 

By  the  simplicity  of  Venus’  doves ! 

By  that  which  knitteth  souls,  and  prospers  loves ! 

In  the  same  place  thou  hast  appointed  me, 

To-morrow  truly  will  I meet  with  thee. 

Shakspeare, 

’I’he  joy  of  meeting  pays  the  pangs  of  absence  ; 

Else  who  could  bear  it? 

Rowe’s  Tamerlane, 
Absence,  with  all  its  pains. 

Is  by  this  charming  moment  wiped  av/ay. 


Thomson. 


MELANCHOLY  - MEMORY. 


395 


When  lovers  meet  in  adverse  hour, 

’T  is  like  a sun-glimpse  through  a shower  ; 

A watery  ray  an  instant  seen, 

Then  darkly  closing  clouds  between. 

Scott’s  Rokeby, 

And  does  not  a meeting  uke  this  make  amends 

For  all  the  long  years  I ’ve  been  wand’ring  away  — 

To  see  thus  around  me  my  youth’s  early  friends, 

As  smiling  and  kind  as  in  that  h??,ppy  day  ? 


MELANCHOLY.  — (See  Care.) 


MEMORY. 

He  that  is  strucken  blind  cannot  forget 
The  precious  treasures  of  his  eyesight  left, 

Shakspeare. 

Of  joys  departed,  never  to  return, 

Ilow  bitter ’s  the  remembrance  ! 

Blair’s  Grave. 

Rise  to  transports  past  expressing. 

Sweeter  by  remembrance  made. 

Goldsmith. 

Remembrance  wakes  with  all  her  busy  train. 

Swells  at  my  heart,  and  turns  the  past  to  pain. 

Goldsmith's  Deserted  Village. 
Had  memory  been  lost  with  innocence 
We  had  not  known  the  sentence,  nor  th’  offence , 

’T  was  man’s  chief  punishment,  to  keep  in  store 
The  sad  remembrance  what  he  was  before. 

Denham. 

Thinking  wil  make  me  mad  ; why  must  think, 

When  no  thought  brings  me  comfort  ? 


Southern 


396 


MEMORY. 


And  scenes  long  past,  of  joy  and  pain, 

Come  wildering  o’er  his  aged  brain. 

Scott’s  Last  Minstrtl 

It  haunts  me  still,  though  many  a year  has  ^ed, 

Like  some  wild  melody. 

Kogers’  [Ldy, 

Through  the  shadowy  past, 

Like  a tomb-searcher,  memory  ran. 

Lifting  each  shroud  that  time  had  cast 
O’er  buried  hopes. 

Moore’s  Loves  of  the  dngeh 
Long,  long  be  my  heart  with  such  memories  fill’d  ! 

Like  the  vase  in  which  roses  have  once  been  distill’d. 

You  may  break,  you  may  ruin  the  vase,  if  you  will. 

But  the  scent  of  the  roses  will  hang  round  it  still. 

Moore, 

When  time,  which  steals  our  years  away, 

Shall  steal  our  pleasures  too. 

The  memory  of  the  past  will  stay. 

And  half  our  joy  renew. 

Moore. 

Let  fate  do  her  worst ; there  are  moments  of  joy. 

Bright  dreams  of  the  past,  which  she  cannot  destroy ; 
Which  come  in  the  night-time  of  sorrow  and  care, 

And  bring  back  the  features  that  joy  used  to  wear. 

Moors. 

My  memory  now  is  but  the  tomb 
Of  joys  long  past. 

Byron’s  Giaour* 

But  in  that  instant,  o’er  his  soul 
Winters  of  memory  seem’d  to  roll. 

And  gather  in  their  drop  of  time 
A life  of  pain,  an  age  of  crime;  — 

O’er  him  who  loves,  or  hates,  or  fears. 

Such  moments  pour  the  grief  of  years. 

Byron  g Giaour. 


MEMORY. 


397 


\ 


But  ever  and  anon,  of  grief  subdued 
There  corned  a token,'  like  a serpetit’s  sdng, 

Scan.e  seen,  but  with  fresh  bitterness  imbued. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
And  other  days  came  back  to  me 
With  recollected  music,  tho’  the  tone 
Is  chang’d  and  solemn,  like  the  cloudy  groan 
Of  dying  thunder  on  the  distant  wind. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold* 
We  ne’er  forget,  tho’  there  we  are  forgot. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan* 

Oh  1 friends  regretted,  scenes  for  ever  dear. 

Remembrance  hails  you  with  her  warmest  tear ! 

Drooping  she  bends  o’er  pensive  Fancy’s  urn, 

To  trace  the  hours  which  never  can  return. 

Byron. 

Ah ! tell  me  not  that  memory 
Sheds  gladness  o’er  the  past;  — 

What  is  recall’d  by  faded  flowers, 

Save  that  they  did  not  last? 

Were  it  not  better  to  forget, 

Than  but  remember  and  regret? 

' Miss  L.  E.  Landon. 

There  are  moments  of  life  that  we  never  forget. 

Which  brighten,  and  brighten,  as  time  steals  away ; 

They  give  a new  charm  to  the  happiest  lot. 

And  they  shine  on  the  gloom  of  the  loneliest  day. 

J.  G.  Percival. 

As  we  look  back  thro’  life  in  our  moments  of  sadness. 

How  few  and  how  brief  are  the  gleamings  of  gladness ! 

Yet  we  find,  ’midst  the  gleam  that  our  pathway  o’ershaded, 
A ft  w spots  of  sunshine  — a few  flowers  unfaded ; 

And  memory  still  hoards,  as  her  richest  of  treasures, 

Some  moments  of  rapture  — some  exquisite  pleasures. 

Prosper  M.  Wetmork,. 


398 


MEMORY. 


On  this  dear  jewei  of  my  rrjomory 
My  heart  will  ever  dwell,  and  fate  in  vain, 

Possessing  that,  essay  to  make  me  wretched. 

Lord  John  Russh.l 

*7’ is  sweet  to  remember.  I would  not  forego 
The  charm  which  the  past  o’er  the  present  can  throw. 

For  all  the  gay  visions  that  fancy  may  weave, 

In  her  web  of  illusion,  that  shines  to  deceive. 

W G.  Clvrk 

Our  hopes  are  flown  — yet  parted  hours 
Still  in  the  depths  of  memory  lie. 

Like  night-gems  in  the  silent  blue 
Of  summer’s  deep  and  brilliant  sky. 

G.  D.  Prentice 

We  have  been  bless’d  ; — tho’  life  is  made 
A tear,  a silence,  and  a shade. 

And  years  have  left  the  vacant  breast 
To  loneliness  — we  have  been  bless’d  ! 

G.  D.  Prentice 

Thy  words  have  touch’d  a chord  of  memory’s  lyre, 

And  wak’d  the  key-note  of  the  saddest  dirge 
That  fancy  ever  play’d  to  melancholy. 

Rufus  Dawes. 

There ’s  a feeling  within  us  that  loves  to  revert 
To  the  merry  old  times  that  are  gone. 

This  memory  bri>^  Itens  o’er  the  past, 

As  when  the  si  n,  conceal’d 
Behind  some  cloud  that  near  us  hangs 
Shines  on  a distant  field. 

H.  W Longfellow 
The  mind  will,  in  its  worst  despair. 

Still  ponder  o’er  the  past. 

On  momrnts  of  delight  that  were 
'Foo  b(‘autiful  to  last. 


Balfe’s  Bohemian  Girl, 


MEMORY. 


399 


Youth’s  eager  life  and  changef  il  lot, 

Nor  sterner  manhood’^  graver  toys 
Nor  trembling  age  himself,  can  blot 
The  memory  of  our  earliest  joys 

J.  H.  McIl^ 

But  thank’d  be  memory  — her  sweet  power  can  brinsr 
Back  to  my  neart  iis  eariy  joys  again  ; 

Her  magic  spell  revives  the  frozen  spring 
Of  youth  and  hope,  and  reunites  the  chain 
Of  sever’d  sympathies. 

Hoflanb 

Fond  memory,  to  her  duty  true, 

Brings  back  their  faded  forms  to  view;  — 

How  lifelike,  thro’  the  mist  of  years, 

Each  well-remember'd  face  appears ! 

Charles  Sprague. 

’Tis  vain,  and  worse  than  vain  to  think  on  joys 
Which,  like  the  hour  that’s  gone,  return  no  more. 

Isaac  Clason 

And  thus,  as  in  memory’s  bark  we  shall  gJide, 

To  visit  the  scenes  of  our  boyhood  anew. 

Though  oft  we  may  see,  looking  down  on  the  tide. 

The  wreck  of  full  many  a hope  shining  through  — 

Yet  still,  as  in  fancy  we  point  to  the  flowers 
That  once  made  a garden  of  all  the  gay  shore. 

Deceiv’d  for  a moment,  we’ll  think  them  still  ours, 

And  breathe  the  fresh  air  of  life’s  morning  once  more. 


Memory’s  that  mirror  which  affliction  throws 
Down  to  the  earth,  as  crudest  of  its  foes. 

Hoping  to  drive  remorse  thus  from  its  side; 

But  when  the  mirror  down  to  earth  is  dash’d, 

Aind  rudely  in  ten  thousand  pieces  mash’d,  * 

Each  fragment  shows  the  reflection  mrltiplied. 

J.  T.  Watsos 


400 


MERCY  -MIND,  Alc. 


Mer  memory  stiL  within  mv  mind 
Re:ains  its  sweetest  power; 
it  is  the  perfume  left  behind, 

That  whispers  of  the  flower. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B Weibt 


MERCY.  — (See  Forgiveness.) 


MERIT.  — (See  Excellence.) 


MILDNESS.  — (See  Meekness.) 


MIND  — REASON  — THOUGHT. 

He  that  is  of  reason’s  skill  bereft, 

And  wants  the  staff  of  wisdom  him  to  stay, 

Is  like  a ship  in  midst  of  t^jmpest  left. 

Without  an  helm  or  pilot  her  to  stay. 

SPENSEB. 

When  men  have  several  faiths,  to  find  the  true 
W’e  only  can  the  aid  of  reason  use  ; 

T is  reason  shows  us  which  we  should  eschew, 

When  by  comparison  we  learn  to  choose. 

Sir  W.  DA\T.NANr 

Thought 

Precedes  the  will  to  think,  and  error  lives 
Ere  reason  can  be  born. 

COKGREVE, 

The  mind*  in  its  own  place,  and,  in  itself. 

Can  make  a heaven  of  hell,  a hell  of  heaven. 

Milton’s  Paiadise  Loft, 


MIND  - REASON  - THOUGHT. 


401 


The  wf.rkman  in  his  stuff  his  skill  doth  show, 

And  yet^tho  stuff  gives  not  the  man  his  skill 
Kings  their  affairs  do  by  their  servants  know, 

Bu'  order  them  by  their  own  royal  will. 

^ Davies’  Immortality  of  the  Soi&i 

The  immortal  mind,  superior  to  his  fate, 

Amid  the  outrage  of  external  things, 

Firm  at  the  solid  base  of  this  great  world. 

Rests  on  its  own  foundation. 

Akensxde 

’T  is  Reason’s  part 
To  govern  and  to  guard  the  heart, 

To  lull  the  wayward  soul  to  rest, 

When  hopes  and  fears  distract  the  breast; — • 

Reason  may  calm  this  doubtful  strife. 

And  steer  thy  bark  thro’  various  life. 

Cotton*'. 

How  fleet  is  the  glance  of  the  mir^d  ! 

Compar’d  with  the  speed  of  its  flight, 

The  tempest  itself  lags  behind. 

And  the  swift-winged  arrow  of  light. 

CowpEfa. 

Within  the  brain’s  most  secret  cells 
A certain  lord -chief-justice  dwells. 

Of  sov’ reign  power,  whom,  one  and  all. 

With  common  voice  we  Reason  call. 

Ch  racHiLL. 

With  curious  art  the  brain,  too  finely  WTOught, 

Preys  on  itself,  and  is  destroj^’d  by  thr.u(Tht; 

Constant  attention  wears  the  active  minu, 

Blots  out  her  powers,  and  leaves  a blank  behind. 

ChFRCUiIU 

The  mind  doth  shape  itself  to  its  own  wants. 

And  can  k'ar  all  things. 


Joanna  Baillie. 


402 


MIND  - REASON  - THOUGHT. 


The  joys  of  sense  to  mental  joys  are  moan  , 

Sense  on  the  present  only  feeds;  the  soul 
On  past  and  future  forages  for  joy  ; 

’r  is  hers,  by  retrospect,  through  time  to  range, 

And  forward,  time’s  great  sequel  to  survey. 

Young’s  Night  Thought$, 
For  just  experience  tells,  in  every  soil, 

That  those  who  think  must  govern  those  who  toil ; 

And  all  that  freedom’s  highest  aims  can  reach 
Is  but  to  lay  proportion’d  loads  on  each. 

Goldsmith’s  Traveller. 


When  coldness  wraps  this  sufiering  clay. 
Ah, whither  strays  the  immortal  mind  ? 
It  cannot  die,  it  cannot  stay. 

But  leaves  its  darken’d  dust  behind. 

His  thoughts 

Were  combinations  of  disjointed  things. 
And  forms,  impalpable  and  unperceiv’d 
By  others’  sight,  familiar  were  to  his. 


Byron. 


Byron. 


The  tree  hath  lost  its  blossom,  and  the  rind. 

Chopp’d  by  the  axe,  looks  rough  and  little  worth; 

But  the  sap  lasts. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harohh 


Eternal  spirit  of  the  chainless  mind. 

Byron’s  Childe  HaroLL 


’T  is  a base 

Abandonment  of  reason  to  resign 
Our  light  of  thought. 

O D 

Byron’s  Childe  Haruld. 
Our  souls  at  least  are  free,  and  ’t  is  in  vain 

We  would  against  them  make  the  flesh  obey  — 
l’ht3  spirit  in  the  end  will  have  its  way. 

Byron’s  Don  Jvan 


MIRTH-  MISANTHROPY. 


403 


Heads  bow,  knees  bend,  eyes  watch  around  a throne, 

And  hzmds  obey  — our  hearts  are  still  our  own. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 
A moment  o’er  his  face 
A tablet  of  unutterable  thoughts 
Was  trac’a  — and  then  it  faded  as  it  came. 

Byron’s  Dream. 

The  insate  mind,  but  from  without  supplied, 

Languishes  on  a weak  imperfect  food ; 

If  sustenance  more  spiritual  be  denied. 

With  flame  consuming  on  itself ’t  will  brood. 

Sir  E.  Brydges. 

The  mind  of  man  is  ne’er  at  rest, — 

Whether  the  body  sleeps  or  wakes, 

To  heaven,  earth,  hell  — North,  South,  East,  West  — 

The  mind  its  ceaseless  wanderings  takes. 

J.  T.  Watson. 


MIRTH.  — (See  Cheerfulness.) 


MISANTHROPY. 

1 am  Misanthropos^  and  hate  mankind ! 

Shakspeare. 

There ’s  not  a day  but,  to  the  man  of  thought. 

Betrays  some  secret  that  throws  new  reproach 
On  life,  and  makes  him  sick  of  seeing  more. 

Young’s  Night  Thong/Us. 
Fear'd,  shunn’d,  belied,  ere  youth  had  lost  her  force, 

He  hated  men  too  much  to  feel  remorse. 

And  th(  ught  the  voice  of  wrath  a sacred  calf. 

To  pay  the  injuries  of  ^ome  on  all. 


Byron’s 


404 


M IS ER-M I S E ]l  Y-SO R ROW. 


I have  not  lov’d  ih^  world,  nor  the  world  me ; 

I have  not  flatter’d  its  rank  breath,  nor  bow’d 
To  its  idolatries  a patient  knee, — 

Nor  coin’d  my  cheeks  to  smiles  — nor  cried  aloud 
In  worship  of  an  echo. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold 
Ha\  e 1 not  suffer’d  things  to  be  forgiven  ? 

O O 

Have  1 not  had  my  brain  sear’d,  my  heart  riven, 

Hopes  sapp’d,  name  blighted,  life’s  life  lied  away  ? 

And  only  not  to  desperation  driven. 

Because  not  altogether  of  such  clay 

As  rots  into  the  souls  of  those  whom  I survey ! 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold 

We  talk  of  love  and  pleasure  — but ’t  is  all 

A tale  of  falsehood.  Life ’s  made  up  of  gloom  ; 

The  fairest  scenes  are  clad  in  ruin’s  pall. 

The  loveliest  pathway  leads  but  to  the  tomb. 

J.  G.  Percival 

Only  this  is  sure : 

In  this  world  nought,  save  misery,  can  endure. 

Mrs.  Emma  C.  Embury 


3IISER.  — (See  Avarice.) 


MISERY— SORROW. 

And  then  will  canker  sorrow  eat  her  bud, 

And  chase  the  native  beauty  from  her  cheek. 

Shakspeare. 

For  where  the  greater  malady  is  fix’d, 

I’he  h'sser  is  scarce  felt. 

Shakspeare- 


MISERY  - SORROW. 


405 


When  sorrows  come,  they  come  not  single  spies, 

But  in  battalions. 

Shakspeare, 

It  eascth  some,  tho’  none  it  ever  cur’d, 

To  think  their  sorrows  others  have  endur’d. 

Shakspeafe 

Borne  secret  venom  preys  upon  his  heart; 

A stubborn  and  unconquerable  flame 

Creeps  in  his  veins,  and  drinks  the  streams  of  life, 

Rowe 

Alas ! I have  no  words  to  tell  my  grief ; 

To  vent  my  sorrow  would  be  some  relief ; 

Light  suflerings  give  us  leisure  to  complain ; 

We  groan,  but  cannot  speak,  in  greater  pain. 

Drydem 

Man  is  a child  of  sorrow,  and  this  world 

In  which  we  breathe,  hath  cares  enough  to  plague  us ; 

But  it  hath  means  withal  to  soothe  those  cares ; 

And  he,  who  meditates  on  others’  woes, 

Shall  in  that  meditation  lose  his  own. 

Cumberland’s  Timocles 
Heaven  oft  in  mercy  smites,  even  when  the  blow 
Severest  is. 

Joanna  Baillie. 

Though  gay  companions  o’er  the  bowl 
Dispel  awhile  the  sense  of  ill. 

Though  pleasure  stir  the  madd’ning  soul  — 

The. heart,  the  heart,  is  lonely  still. 

Byron 

And  o’er  that  fair  broad  brow  were  wrought 
The  intersected  lines  of  thought; 

Those  furrows,  which  the  burning  share 
Of  sorrow  ploughs  untimely  there ; 

Scars  of  the  lacerated  mind. 

Which  the  soul’s  war  doth  leave  behind, 

Byron’s  Pnrisina 


406 


MISERY -SORROW. 


Joy’s  recollection  is  no  longer  joy, 

But  sorrow’s  memory  is  sorrow  still ! 

Byron’s  Marino  Faliero 

Wrung  with  the  wounds  that  kill  not,  but  ne’er  heal. 

Byron’s  CJiilde  Harold 

But  ’midst  the  crowd,  the  hum,  the  shock  of  men, 

To  hear,  to  see,  to  feel,  and  to  possess. 

And  roam  along,  the  world’s  tired  denizen, 

With  none  who  bless  us,  none  whom  we  may  bless. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold 
His  life  was  one  long  war  with  self-sought  foes. 

Or  friends  by  him  self-banish’d. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold 
Bow’d  and  bent. 

Wax  grey  and  ghastly,  withering  ere  their  time. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold 
What  deep  wound  ever  heal’d  without  a scar  ? 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 

The  furrows  of  long  thought  and  dried-up  tears. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
He  felt  the  chilling  heaviness  of  heart, 

* ^ * Which  attends 

The  loss  of  love,  the  treachery  of  friends. 

Or  death  of  those  we  doat  on,  when  a part 
Of  us  dies  witn  them,  and  each  fond  hope  ends. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

For  sorrow  o’er  each  sense  held  stern  command. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 

Wait,  till  like  me,  your  hopes  are  blighted  — till 
Sorrow  and  shame  are  handmaids  of  your  cabin  ; 

Famine  and  poverty  your  guests  at  table  ; 

Despair  )mur  bedfellow  — then  rise,  but  no: 

From  sleep,  and  judge. 


Byrow, 


MISERY -SORROW. 


407 


Better 

Die  soon,  than  live  on  lingeringly  in  pain. 

Bvron’s  Two  FascarL 

0 ei  every  feature  of  that  still  pale  face, 

1 lad  sorrow  fix’d  what  time  can  ne’er  erase. 

Byron’s  Corsair, 

My  life  is  not  dated  by  years  — 

There  are  moments  which  act  as  a plough. 

And  there  is  not  a furrow  appears, 

But  is  deep  in  my  soul  as  my  brow 

Byron. 

The  quivering  flesh,  though  torture-torn,  may  live ; 

But  souls,  once  deeply  wounded,  heal  no  more. 

Elliot. 

No  — pleasures,  hopes,  affections  gone, 

The  wretch  may  bear,  and  yet  live  on  ; 

Like  things  within  the  cold  rock  found 
Alive,  when  all ’s  congeal’d  around. 

But  there ’s  a blank  repose  in  this, 

A calm  stagnation,  that  were  bliss 
To  the  keen,  burning,  harrowing  pain, 

Now  felt  thro’  all  that  breast  and  brain. 

Moore’s  Lalla  Roo/ch. 

The  path  of  sorrow,  and  that  path  alone. 

Leads  to  the  land  where  sorrow  is  unknown ; 

No  traveller  ever  reach’d  that  blest  abode. 

Who  found  not  thorns  and  briars  in  his  road. 

COWPFR, 

A malady 

Preys  on  my  heart,  that  medicine  cannot  reach, 
fn visible  and  cureless. 

Maturin’s  Bertrajn 

He  who  has  most  of  heart  knows  most  of  sorrow. 

Bailey’s  Fesim 


408 


M1SFOR7  UNE  - MOB  - RAUVA.K 


Sorrow  iroacls  heavily,  and  leaves  behind 

A deep  impression,  even  when  she  departs  ; 

While  joys  trip  by  with  steps  light  as  ihe  wind. 

And  scarcely  leaves  a truce  upon  our  hearts. 

Mks.  E.  0.  Embcm 

(>h,  woe,  deep  woe,  to  earthly  love’s  fond  trust, 

When  all  it  once  has  worshipp’d  lies  in  dust ! 

Mrs.  E,  C.  Embi  rs 

It  breathes  no  sign,  it  sheds  no  tear, 

Yet  it  consumes  the  heart. 

Sheridan 

You ’ve  seen  the  lightning-flash  at  night 
Play  brightly  o’er  its  cloudy  pile, 

The  moonshine  tremble  on  the  height, 

When  Winter  glistenj  cold  and  bright, — 

And  like  that  flash,  and  like  that  light, 

Is  sorrow’s  vain  and  heartless  smile. 

J.  G.  Whittiebl 


M I S F 0 R TU  N E.  — (See  Adversity.) 


MOB  — RABBLE. 

They  praise  and  they  admire  they  know  not  what. 

And  know  not  whom,  but  as  one  leads  the  other: 

And  what  delight  to  be  by  such  extoll’d. 

To  live  upon  their  tongues,  and  be  their  talk, 
whom  to  be  disprais’d  were  no  small  praise  ? 

Milton’s  Paradise  Re^ainea. 

^’ht  rude  reproaches  of  the  rascal  herd, 

Who,  for  the  self-same  actions,  if  successful, 

Wouia  be  as  grossly  lavish  in  their  praise. 


Thomson 


MODESTY -MONEY. 


409 


The  scum 

'I'uat  rises  uprnost,  wnen  the  nation  boils. 


iJkYDE?? 


Some  popular  chief, 

More  noisy  than  the  rest,  but  cries  halloo, 
fVnd  in  a trice  the  bellowing  herd  come  out. 
They  never  ask  for  whom,  or  what  they  fight ; 
But,  turn  ’em  out,  and  show  ’em  but  a foe : 

Cry  liberty^  and  that ’s  a cause  for  quarrel. 


Tiieir  feet  through  faithless  leather  meet  the  dirt, 

And  oft’ner  change  their  principles  than  shirt. 

Young. 


And  the  brute  crowd,  whose  envious  zeal 
Huzzas  each  turn  of  fortune’s  wheel, 

And  loudest  shouts  when  lowest  lie 
Exalted  worth  and  station  high. 

Scott’s  Rokc^jy, 

Who  o’er  the  herd  would  wish  to  reign, 

Fantastic,  fickle,  fierce,  and  vain  ? — 

Vain  as  the  leaf  upon  the  stream, 

And  fickle  as  a changeful  dream ; 

Fanta.itic  as  a woman’s  mood, 

And  fi  jrce  as  frenzy’s  fever’d  blood. 

Scott’s  Lord  of  the  fsles 


MODESTY.  — (See  Bashfulness.) 


MONEY.  — (See  Gold.| 


410 


MOON -STARS -SUN, 


MOON  — STARS  — SUN. 


The  weary  sun  hath  made  a golden  set, 

And,  by  the  bright  track  of  his  fiery  car 
Gives  token  of  a goodly  day  to-morrow. 

Sha  kspeare 

But  yonder  comes  the  glorious  king  of  day, 

Rejoicing  in  the  East. 

Milton 

See,  at  the  call  of  night. 

The  star  of  evening  sheds  his  silver  light 

o o 

High  o’er  yon  western  hill. 

Gay’s  Dionf 

Meanwhile,  declining  from  the  noon  of  day, 

The  sun  obliquely  shoots  his  burning  ray. 

I'OPF 


The  sky 

Spreads  like  an  ocean  hung  on  high. 

Bespangled  with  those  isles  of  light 
So  wildh^-,  spiritually  bright. 

Who  ever  gaz’d  upon  them  shining. 

And  turn’d  to  earth  without  repining. 

Nor  wish’d  for  wings  to  flee  away. 

And  mix  with  their  eternal  ray? 

Byron’s  Siege  of  Corinth, 
Ye  stars,  that  are  the  poetry  of  heaven ! 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 

The  queen  of  night  asserts  her  silent  reign. 

Byron’s  Corsair 

Plac’d  in  the  spangled  sky,  with  visage  bright 
The  full-orb’d  moon  her  radiant  beams  displays; 

But  ’neath  the  vivid  sun’s  more  splendid  rays, 

Sinks  all  her  charms,  and  fades  her  lovely  light. 

From  the  PoHu guest. 


MOURNING  - MOTHER  - MOUNTAINS 


411 


How  oft  at  midnight  have  I fix’d  my  ga^e 
Upon  the  blue,  unclouded  firmament, 

With  thousand  spheres  illumin’d,  and,  perchance, 

The  powerful  centres  of  revolving  worlds? 

Hon.  W.  Herbert. 

— Going  forth. 

Her  princely  way  an  ong  the  stars  in  slow 
And  silent  brightness. 

H.  Ware 

But  the  stars,  the  soft  stars ! — when  they  glitter  above  us, 
I gaze  on  their  beams  with  a feeling  divine ; 

For,  as  true  friends  in  sorrow  more  tenderly  love  us, 

The  darker  the  heaven,  the  brighter  they  shine ! 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Welby. 
O ! who  can  lift  above  a careless  look. 

While  such  bright  scenes  as  these  his  thoughts  engage. 
And  doubt,  while  reading  from  so  fair  a book. 

That  God’s  own  finger  trac’d  the  glowing  page ; 

Or  deem  the  radiance  of  yon  blue  expanse. 

With  all  its  starry  hosts,  the  careless  work  of  Chance  ? 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Wei. by. 


MORNING.-' (See  Day.) 


MOTHER.  — (See  Father.) 


MOUNTAINS. 

He  who  first  met  the  highlands’  swelling  blue. 

Will  love  each  peak  that  shows  a kindred  hue ; 

Hail  in  each  crag  a friend’s  familiar  face, 

And  clasp  the  mountain  in  his  mind’s  embrace. 

Byron’s  Island 


412 


MOURNING  - MURDER. 


Above  me  are  the  Al])s. 

The  palaces  of  nature,  whose  v.ast  walls 
Have  pinnacled  in  clouds  their  snowy  scalps 
And  thron’d  eternity  in  icy  hails 
Of  cold  sublimity,  whtTe  forms  and  falls 

The  avalanche  — the  thunderbolt  of  snow!  — 

AL  chat  ex{)ands  the  spirit,  yet  appals, 

Gather  around  these  summits,  as  to  show 
How  earth  may  pierce  to  heaven,  yet  leave  vain  man  f>elovi 

Byron’s  Childe  ILnold, 

.Whc  first  beholds  the  Alps,  — that  mighty  chain 
Of  mountains,  stretching  on  from  east  to  west, 

Sc  massive,  yet  so  shadowy,  so  ethereal. 

As  to  belong  rather  to  heaven  than  earth  — 

But  instantly  receives  into  his  soul 
A sense,  a feeling  that  he  loses  not  — 

A something  that  informs  him ’t  is  a moment 
Whence  he  may  date  henceforward  and  for  ever. 

Rogers’  Itfdx^ 

Your  peaks  are  beautiful,  ye  Apennines, 

In  the  soft  light  of  your  serenest  skies ; 

From  the  broad  highland  regions,  dark  with  pines 
Fair  as  the  hills  of  paradise,  ye  rise ! 

W.  C.  Bryant 

And  lo ! the  Catskills  print  the  distant  sky, 

And  o’er  their  airy  tops  the  faint  clouds  driven, 

So  softly  blending,  that  the  cheated  eye 

Forgets  or  which  is  earth  or  which  is  neaven. 

T.  S hAV 


MOURNING.  — (See  Funeral.) 

I 


MURDER  — (See  Assassination.) 


MUSIC  SINGING. 


41 


MUSIC  — SINGING. 

Oh!  it  came  0V3r  me  like  the  swe(3t  South, 

That  breathes  upon  a bank  of  violets, 

Stealing  and  giving  odour. 

SlIAKSPEARE 

—As  sweet  and  musical 
As  bright  Apollo’s  lute,  strung  with  his  hair. 

SlIAKSPEARE. 

Thejman  that  hath  not  music  in  himself. 

And  is  not  mov’d  with  concord  of  sweet  sounds, 

Is  fit  for  treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils  — 

Let  no  man  trust  him. 

Shakspearf, 

Untwisting  all  the  chains  that  tie 
The  hidden  soul  of  harmony. 

Milton. 

Can  any  mortal  mixture  of  earth’s  mould 
Breathe  such  divine,  enchanting  ravishment  ? 

Milton’s  Comun, 

Who,  as  they  sung,  would  take  the  prison’d  soul, 

And  lap  it  in  Elysium. 

Milton’s  Comu» 

Music  the  fiercest  grief  can  charm, 

And  fate’s  severest  rage  disarm. 

Music  can  soften  pain  to  ease. 

And  make  despair  and  madness  please; 

Our  joys  below  it  can  improve, 

And  mtedate  the  bhss  above. 

Pope. 

Music  resembles  poetry ; in  each 

Are  numerous  graces  which  no  methods  teach, 

And  which  a master-hand  alone  can  reach. 

Pope  ’s  Essay  on  Critinsm, 


414 


MUSIC  - SfNGTXG. 


Even  mge  itself  is  cheer’d  with  music 
It  wakes  a glad  remembrance  of  our  youth, 

Calls  ba^  k past  joys,  and  warms  us  into  transport. 

Rowk 

Music  hath  charms  to  soothe  the  savage  breast, 

To  soften  rocks,  and  bend  the  knotted  oak. 

Conor FVE 

Though  cheerfulness  and  1 have  long  been  strangers. 
Harmonious  sounds  are  still  delightful  to  me  : 

There ’s  sure  no  passion  in  the  human  soul 
But  finds  its  food  in  music. 

Lillo 

There  is  in  souls  a sympathy  with  sounds. 

And  as  the  mind  is  pitch’d,  the  ear  is  pleas'd 
With  melting  airs  or  martial,  brisk  or  grave. 

Some  chord  in  unison  with  what  we  hear 
Is  touch’d  within  us,  and  the  heart  replies. 

Cowper’s  Task, 

Sweet  notes  ! they  tell  of  former  peace. 

Of  all  that  look’d  so  rapturous  then  ; — 

Now  wither’d,  lost  — Oh  ! pray  thee,  cease, 

I cannot  hear  those  sounds  again  ! 

Moorjl 

Music ! Oh,  how  faint,  how  weak, 

Language  fades  before  thy  spell ! 
vV’hy  should  feeling  ever  speak. 

When  thou  canst  breathe  her  soul  so  well  ? 

Friendship’s  balmy  words  may  pain, 

Love’s  are  e’en  more  false  than  they  — 

Oh!  ’tis  only  music’s  strain 

Can  sweetly  soothe,  and  not  betray ! 

Moore. 

Her  voice  was  like  the  warbling  of  a bird. 

So  soft,  so  sweet,  so  delicately  clear. 


Byron’s  Do?i  Juan 


MUSIC -SINGING. 


415 


rie  hears,  alas  ! no  music  of  the  spheres, 

But.  an  unhallovv’d,  earthly  sound  of  fiddling. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

In  fact  he  has  no  singing  education, 

An  ignorant,  noteless,  timeless,  tuneless  fellow. 

Byron’s  Don  Ji^an, 

The  brazen  trump,  the  spirit-stirring  drum, 

That  bids  the  foe  defiance  ere  they  come. 

Byron’s  Cw'se  of  Mintrvcu 
The  dying  night-breeze  harping  o’er  the  hills. 

Striking  the  strings  of  nature  — rock  and  tree,-^ 

The  best  and  earliest  lyres  of  harmony, 

With  echo  for  their  chorus. 

Byron’s  Island 

Her  deep  and  thrilling  song 
Seem’d  with  its  piercing  melody  to  reach 
The  soul,  and  in  mysterious  unison 
Blend  with  all  thoughts  of  gentleness  and  love. 

Southey 

The  bird  retains  his  silver  note. 

Though  bondage  chains  his  wing; 

His  song  is  not  a happy  one  — 

I’m  saddest  when  I sing. 

J.  H.  Bayly 

Voices  of  melting  tenderness,  that  blend 
With  pure  and  gentle  musings,  till  the  soul. 

Commingling  with  the  melody,  is  borne. 

Rapt  and  dissolv’d  in  ecstasy,  to  heaven. 

J.  G.  Percival 

Who  loves  not  music  still  may  pause  to  hark 
Nature’s  free  gladness  hymning  in  the  lark;  — 

A : sings  the  bird,  sings  Lucy  ! all  her  art 
A voice  in  which  you  listen  to  a heart. 

The  New  Tit  no  a. 

Divine  interpreter  thou  art.  Oh  Song ! 

To  thee  all  secrets  of  all  hearts  belong ! 

The  New  Timon, 


416 


Mr'sir-s(NcaN(J 


See  to  the  desl<  Apollo’s  sons  repair  : — 

Swift  rides  the  rosin  o’er  the  hor  e’s  hair; 

In  unison  their  various  tones  to  tune, 

Murmurs  the  hautboy  ; growls  the  hoarse  bassoon  ; 

In  soft  vibration?  sighs  the  whispering  lute ; 

Twang  goes  the  harpsichord  ; too-too,  tin*  flute  ; 

Brays  the  loud  trumpet ; squeaks  the  fiddle  sharp; 

Winds  the  French-horn;  and  twangs  the  tingling  harp. 

Rejected  Addressti 

Such  sweet,  such  melting  strains  ! 

Their  soft  harmonious  cadence  rises  now, 

And  swells  in  solemn  grandeur  to  its  height ! 

Now  sinks  to  mellow  notes  — now  dies  away  — 

But  leaves  its  thrilling  memory  on  my  ear ! 

Methodist  Protestant. 

How  sweetly  sounds  each  mellow  note 
Beneath  the  moon’s  pale  ray. 

When  dying  zephyrs  rise  and  float 
Like  lovers’  sighs  away  I 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  W Eitsv 

And,  as  thy  bright  lips  sung,  they  caught 
So  beautiful  a ray. 

That,  as  I gaz’d,  I almost  thought 
The  spirit  of  thy  lay 
Had  left,  while  melting  in  the  air, 
its  sweet  expression  painted  there. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Welof 

Orpheus  himself  might  hang  his  lyre 
Upon  the  willows  after  this. 

Nor  henceforth  impiously  aspire 
To  laj)  the  senses  all  in  bliss ; 

For  he,  who  heard  that  thrilling  strain, 

Would  find  all  other  music  vain. 


J.  T Watson. 


NAME 


417 


NAME. 

What’s  in  a name ! That,  which  we  call  a rose, 

By  any  other  name  would  smell  as  sweet. 

SlIAKSFI  * K75. 

Brutus  and  Csesar : what  should  be  in  Caesar  ? 

Why  should  that  name  be  sounded  more  than  yours  ! 
Write  them  together,  yours  is  as  fair  a name ; 

Sound  them,  it  doth  become  the  mouth  as  well ; 

Weigh  them,  it  is  as  heavy ; conjure  with  them, 

Brutus  will  start  a spirit  as  soon  as  Caesar. 

Shakspeake. 

What ’s  in  the  name  of  lord,  that  T should  fear 
To  bring  my  grievance  to  the  public  ear  ? 

Churchili. 

Think  not  a coronet  can  hide 
Assuming  ignorance  and  pride ; 

By  birth  the  name  alone  descends. 

Your  honour  on  yourself  depends. 

Gay’s  Fables, 

Who  dares  name  guilt,  and  with  it  Pearcy^s  name  ? 

The  Tailors, 

0 Amos  Cottle  ! Phoebus  ! what  a name 
To  fill  the  sounding  trump  of  future  fame! 

Byron’s  English  Bards,  8fr, 

1 have  a passion  for  the  name  of  “ Mary,” 

For  once  it  was  a magic  sound  to  me. 

And  still  i*  half  calls  up  the  realms  of  fairy. 

Where  I beheld  what  never  was  to  be. 

Byron’s  Don  Juar^ 

Appealing,  by  the  magic  of  its  name. 

To  gentle  feelings,  and  affections  kept 
W thin  the  heart,  like  gold. 


27 


Miss  L.  E.  Landon, 


418 


NATURE. 


Though  the  rose  would  be  sweet  were  it  not  call’d  a rose— 
Thougii  evil,  call’d  good,  would  our  peace  still  op[;ose — 
Though  gall  would  be  bitter,  were  honey  its  name — 

And  a mouse,  christen'd  bear,  were  a mouse  all  the  suuic  , 
Yet,  who  has  not  felt  the  strong  power  of  a word, 

The  magic  that  thrills  us,  when  soine  names  are  heard  ! 

J.  T WAiauii 


NATURE. 

How  mean  the  order  and  perfection  sought 
In  the  best  product  of  the  human  thought. 

Compar’d  to  the  great  harmony  that  reigns 
In  \Ahat  the  spirit  of  the  world  ordains. 

Prior 

Nature  hath  nothing  made  so  base,  but  can 
Read  some  instruction  to  the  wisest  man. 

Aleyn. 

First  follow  nature,  and  your  judgment  frame 
By  her  just  standard,  which  is  still  the  same ; 

Unerring  nature,  still  divinely  bright. 

One  clear,  unchang’d,  and  universal  light, 

Life,  force,  and  beauty,  must  to  all  irftpart, 

At  once  the  source,  and  end,  and  test  of  art. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Critins^’t. 

Slave  to  no  sect,  who  takes  no  private  road. 

But  looks  thro’  nature  up  to  nature’s  God. 

Pope’s  Essay  o i d/ath 

Yes!  let  the  rich  deride,  the  proud  disdain 
These  simple  blessings  of  the  lowly  train  ; 

To  me  more  dear,  congenial  to  my  heart. 

One  native  charm,  than  ail  the  gloss  of  art. 

CfOLDSMiTH’s  Deserted  l^UagK 


NATURE 


419 


By  forms  unfachion’d,  fresh  from  nature’s  hand. 

• Goldsmith. 

Spontaneous  joys,  where  nature  has  its  play, 

The  soul  adopts,  and  owns  their  first-born  sway. 

Goldsmith. 

Even  from  the  tomb  the  voice  of  nature  cries ; 

Even  in  our  ashes  live  our  wouted  fires 

Gray’s  FAegy 

The  daily  labours  of  the  bee 
Awake  my  soul  to  industry  : 

Who  can  observe  the  careful  ant, 

And  not  provide  for  future  want  ? 

My  dog  (the  trustiest  of  his  kind,)  ' 

With  gratitude  inflames  my  mind; 

I mark  his  true  and  faithful  way, 

And  in  my  service  copy  Tray. 

In  constancy  and  nuptial  love, 

I learn  my  duty  from  the  dove. 

The  hen,  who,  from  the  chilly  air, 

With  pious  wings  protects  her  care, 

And  every  fowl  that  flies  at  large, 

Instructs  me  in  a parent’s  charge. 

Gay’s 

Pride  often  guides  the  author’s  pen, 

Books  as  affected  are  as  men ; 

But  he  who  studies  nature’s  laws, 

From  certain  truth  his  maxims  draws; 

And  those,  without  our  schools,  suffice 
To  make  men  moral,  good  and  wise. 

Gay’s  FaJbitt 

ThL  sounding  cataract 
Haunted  me  like  a passion  ; the  tall  rock, 

The  mountain,  and  the  deep  and  gloomy  wood. 

Their  colours  and  their  forms  were  then  fo  me 
An  appetite  a feeling,  and  a love. 


Wordsworth 


420 


NECESSITY  r NEGT.l^X’T  - SIJGHT. 


Lovely  indeed  the  mimic  works  of  art, 

But  Nature’s  works  far  lovelier. 

Covvper’s  ToMk, 

Thr6’  natuT3’s  walk  your  curious  way  you  take, 

Gaze  on  her  glowing  bow,  her  glittering  flake, 

Her  Spring’s  first  cheerful  green,  her  Autumn’s  las*v 
Borne  on  the  breeze,  or  dying  in  the  blast. 

You  climb  the  mountain’s  everlasting  wall. 

You  linger  where  the  thunder-waters  fall; 

You  love  to  wander  by  old  ocean’s  side. 

And  hold  communion  with  its  silver  tide. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity. 

Go  abroad 

Upon  the  paths  of  Nature,  and,  when  all 
Its  voices  whisper,  and  its  silent  things 
Are  breathing  the  deep  beauty  of  the  world 
Kneel  at  its  simple  altar. 

N.  P.  Willis 

’Tis  Nature  moulds  the  touching  face, 

’T  is  she  that  gives  the  living  grace, 

The  genuine  charm  that  never  dies. 

The  modest  air,  the  timid  eyes. 

The  stealing  glance,  that  wins  its  way 
To  where  the  soul’s,  affections  lay. 

J.  K.  Pauldimo. 


NECESSITY.  — (See  Destinv  ) 


NEGLECT  — SLIGHT. 

Full  many  a gem,  of  purest  ray  serene. 

The  dark,  unfathom’d  caves  of  ocean  bear ; 

Full  many  a flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen. 

And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air. 

Gray’s  Ekgy, 


NEGLECT -SLIGHT. 


421 


An  me ! full  sorely  is  my  heart  forlorn, 

To  think  liow  modest  worth  neglected  lies ; 

While  partial  fame  doth  with  her  hosts  adorn 
Such  deeds  alone  as  pride  and  pomp  disguise  — 

Deeds  of  ill  sort,  and  mischievous  emprise. 

Shenstone. 

Be  thou  the  fir^t  true  merit  to  befriend; 

His  praise  is  lost,  who  waits  till  all  commend. 

Pope. 


In  this  perverted  age, 

Who  most  deserve,  can’t  always  most  engage ; 

So  far  is  worth  from  making  glory  sure. 

It  often  hinders  what  it  should  procure 

Young. 

Change  thou  the  first,  nor  wait  thy  lover’s  flight. 

Prior. 


Have  I not  manag’d  my  contrivance  well, 

To  try  your  love,  and  make  you  doubt  of  mine  ? 

Dryden. 

Come,  come,  ’t  will  not  do  ! put  that  purling  brow  down ; 
You  can’t,  for  the  soul  of  you,  learn  how  to  frown. 

Henry  Kirk  White, 

Wi’  curling  lip,  and  scornful  een. 

She  listen’d  to  all  he  said. 

While  the  moon  look’d  down,  and  the  twinkling  sheen 
Of  the  stars  is  o’er  them  shed. 

My  heart  is  wae  for  the  luckless  knight. 

His  vows  are  scatter’d  in  air; 

Fcr  pitiless  is  his  lady  bright. 

And  his  prayer  is  a bootless  prayer. 


S.  P.  Chabi, 


422 


NEWS 


NEWS  . 

% 

The  rabble  gather  round  the  man  of  news, 

And  listen  with  their  mouths  wide  open : 

Some  tell,  some  hear,  some  judge  of  news,  some  nakc  it. 
And  he  that  lies  most  loud,  is  most  believ’d. 

Drydfn 

This  folio  of  four  pages,  happy  work, 

Which  not  e’en  critics  criticise  ; that  holds 

Inquisitive  attention,  while  I read 

Fast  bound  in  chains  of  silence,  which  the  fair. 

Though  eloquent  themselves,  yet  fear  to  break. 

Cowper’s  Task 

The  news ! our  morning,  noon,  and  evening  cry. 

Day  after  day  repeats  it  till  we  die. 

For  this  the  cit,  the  critic,  and  the  fop. 

Dally  the  hour  away  in  Tonsor’s  shop ; 

For  this  the  gossip  takes  her  daily  route. 

And  wears  your  threshold  and  your  patience  out ; 

For  this  we  leave  the  parson  in  the  lurch. 

And  pause  to  prattle  on  the  way  to  church ; 

Even  when  some  coffin’d  friend  we  gather  round. 

We  ask  “ What  news  ?”  — then  lay  him  in  the  ground. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity 
The  news  ! — there  scarcely  is  a word,  I ’ll  venture  her® 
to  say, 

That  o’er  men’s  thoughts  and  fancies  holds  more  univert:.’?*! 
sway ; 

The  old,  thfc.  young,  the  grave,  the  gay,  the  wealthy  s-id 
the  poor. 

Ah  wish,  on  each  succeeding  day,  to  hear  it  o’er  and  o cr, 
Though  on  each  day ’t  is  always  chang’d  from  what  it  was 
before. 


J.  T.  Watson, 


NOVELS- ROM AJVCE,  &c. 


423 


NEWSPAPER.  — (See  Books.) 


/ 

NIGHT.  — (See  Day.) 


NOBILITY.  — See  Ancestry., 


NOTORIETY.— (See  Fame.) 


NOVELS  — ROMANCE 
Last  scene  of  all, 

That  Mids  this  strange,  eventful  history 

Shakspearb 

He  swore  the  world,  as  he  could  prove, 

Was  made  of  fighting  and  of  love ; — 

Just  so  romances  are  ; for  what  else 
Is  in  them  all,  but  love  and  battles  ? 

Butler’s  Iludibraa. 

Now  fiction’s  groves  we  tread,  where  young  romance 
Laps  the  glad  senses  in  her  sweetest  trance. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity, 

She  shuts  the  dear,  dear  book  that  made  her  weep, 

Puts  out  her  light,  and  turns  away  to  sleep. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity. 

The  gorgeous  pageantry  of  times  gone4)y, — 

The  tilt,  the  tournament,  the  vaulted  hall, — 

Fades  in  its  glory  on  the  spirit’s  eye. 

And  fancy’s  bright  and  gay  creation  — all 
Sink  into  dust,  wher  reason’s  searching  glance 
Unmasks  the  age  of  knighthood  and  romance. 

S.  L.  F AIRFIELO. 


424 


NOVEL  ! Y - NUN  - OATHS. 


[ ’m  not  romantic,  but,  upon  my  word, 

There  are  some  moments  when  one  can’t  help  feeling 
As  if  his  heart’s  chords  were  so  strongly  stirr’d 
By  things  around  him,  that,  ’t  is  vain  concealing, 

A little  music  in  his  soul  still  lingers, 

Whene’er  iu  keys  are  touch’d  by  Nature’s  fingers. 

C.  F.  HoFFBLiN 


NOVELTY. 

New  customs. 

Though  they  be  never  so  ridiculous, 

Nay,  let  them  be  unmanly,  yet  are  follow’d. 

Shakspearb. 

All,  with  one  consent,  praise  new-born  gauds, 

Though  they  are  made  and  moulded  of  things  past. 

Shakspeare. 

Papilla,  wedded  to  her  amorous  spark. 

Sighs  for  the  shades  — “ How  charming  is  a park  !” 

The  park  is  purchas’d,  but  the  fair  he  sees 
All  bath’d  in  tears  — ‘‘  O odious,  odious  trees  !” 

Pope’s  Moral  Essay&n 
Of  all  the  passions  that  possess  mankind, 

The  love  of  novelty  rules  most  the  mind  ; 

In  search  of  this,  from  realm  to  realm  we  roam, 

Our  fleets  come  fraught  with  every  folly  home. 

Footk. 


NUN.  — (See  Hermit.) 


OATHS  — SWEARING. 

'T  is  not  the  many  oMhs  that  make  the  truth ; 

But  the  plain  single  vow  that  is  vow’d  tme. 

Shakspeaub. 


OBITUARY. 


425 


It  is  great  sin  lo  swear  unto  a sin, 

But  greater  sin  to  keep  a sinful  oath. 

Shakspeare. 

I will  die  a hundred  thousand  deaths, 

Ere  break  the  smallest  parcel  of  this  vow 

Shakspeare 

Oaths  are  but  words,  and  words  but  wind. 

Too  feeble  instruments  tc  Liiido 

Butler’s  Hndihras, 

He,  that  imposes  an  makes  ' 

Not  he,  that  for  convenience  takes  it ; 

Then  how  can  any  man  be  said 
\ To  break  an  oath  he  never  made  ? 

Butler’s  Hudibras, 

An  oath  is  a recognizance  to  heaven. 

Binding  us  over  in  the  courts  above. 

To  plead  to  the  indictment  of  our  crimes. 

That  those  who  ’scape  this  world,  should  suffer  there. 

Southern 

' Jack  was  embarrass’d  — never  hero  more. 

And,  as  he  knew  not  what  to  say,  — he  swore. 

Byron’s  Island, 


OBITUARY. 

Underneath  this  stone  doth  lie 
As  much  virtue  as  could  die. 

Which,  when  alive,  did  vigour  give 
To  as  much  beauty  as  could  live. 

Ben  Jcncom. 

!•  The  breezy  call  of  incense-breathing  morn, 

d The  swallow  twittering  from  the  straw-built  shed, 

The  cock’s  shrill  clarion,  or  the  echoing  horn, 

^ No  more  shall  wake  them  from  their  lowly  bed. 

I ' Gray’s  Elegy 

'j 

i' 


426 


OBITUARY. 


There  Honour  comej,  a pilgrim  gray, 

To  bless  the  turf  that  wraps  their  clay  ; 

And  Freedom  shall  awhile  repair 
To  dwell  a weeping  hermit  there  ! 

CoLLINf, 

Each  lonely  scene  shall  thee  restore, 

For  thee  the  tear  be  duly  shed  ; 

Belov’d,  till  life  could  charm  no  more, 

And  mourn’d,  till  pity’s  self  be  dead  ! 

Collins. 

How  sleep  the  brave  who  sink  to  rest. 

With  all  their  country’s  honour  blest ! 

Collins. 

How  lov’d,  how  honour’d  once,  avails  thee  not. 

To  whom  related,  or  by  whom  begot ; 

A heap  of  dust  alone  remains  of  thee  — 

’T  is  all  thou  art,  and  all  the  proud  shall  be  ! 

Pope. 

What  though  no  funeral  pomp,  no  borrow’d  tear. 

Your  hour  of  death  to  gazing  crowds  may  tell  — 

No  weeping  friends  attend  your  sable  bier. 

Who  sadly  listen  to  the  passing  bell ! — 

Yet  shall  remembrance  from  oblivion’s  veil 

Relieve  your  scene,  and  sigh  with  grief  sincere ; 

And  soft  compassion,  at  your  tragic  tale, 

In  silent  tribute  pay  her  kindred  tear. 

Falcone B 

What  though  the  mounds  that  mark’d  each  name. 

Beneath  the  wings  of  Time, 

Have  worn  away  ? — ITieirs  is  the  fame 
Immortal  and  sublime ; 

For  who  can  tread  on  Freedom’s  plain. 

Nor  wake  her  dead  to  life  again  ? 


R.  Montoonebv 


OBITUARY. 


427 


Without  a groan,  or  sigh,  or  glance,  to  show 
A parting  pang,  the  spirit  from  her  pass’d. 

And  they,  who  watch’d  her  nearest,  could  not  know 
Th'  very  instant,  till  the  change  that  cast 
Her  sweet  face  into  shadow,  dull  and  slow, 

Glared  o’er  her  eyes. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

They  fell  devoted,  but  undying 

The  very  gale  their  name  seem’d  sighing. 

Their  spirits  wrapt  the  dusky  mountain ; 

Their  memory  sparkled  o’er  the  fountain ; 

The  meanest  rill,  the  mightiest  river. 

Roll’d  mingling  with  their  fame  for  ever ! 

Byron’s  Siege  of  Corinth, 
Brief,  brave,  and  glorious,  was  his  young  career. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 

We  tell  thy  doom  without  a sigh. 

For  thou  art  Freedom’s  now,  and  Fame’s ; 

One  of  the  few,  th’  immortal  names. 

That  were  not  born  to  die  1 

Fitz-green  Halleck. 

Green  be  the  turf  above  thee, 

Friend  of  my  better  days; 

None  knew^  thee  but  to  love  thee. 

Nor  nam’d  thee  but  to  praise, 

Fitz-green  Halleck. 
She  liv’d  as  lives  a peaceful  dove. 

She  died  as  blossoms  die; 

And  now  her  spirit  floats  above, 

A seraph  in  the  sky  ! 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Welbv, 
Yet,  shrin’d  whth  many  a sweet,  sad  thought. 

That  lov’d  one’s  memory  lingers  stih; 

For  O ! she  left  a void  that  nought 
But  mournful  thoughts  can  fill ! 

Mrs.  Amelia  B Welby 


428 


OBLIVION- OBSTINACY.  &o. 


Pity  for  thee  shall  weep  her  fountains  dry, 

Mercy  for  thee  shall  bankrupt  all  her  store ; 

Valour  shall  pluck  a garland  from  on  hi^rh, 

And  Honour  twine  the  wreath  thy  temples  o\ir, 

Isaac  Clasoji 

As  the  bird  to  its  sheltering  nest, 

Whtm  the  storm  on  the  hills  is  abroad. 

So  her  spirit  hath  flown  from  this  world  of  unrest, 

To  repose  on  the  bosom  of  God. 

W.  H.  Burleigh 

But  lately  his  cheek  with  life’s  crimson  was  flush’d, 

His  voice  was  cheerful,  health  sat  on  his  brow; 

That  cheek  is  now  pallid,  that  voice  now  hush’d  — 

He  sleeps  with  the  bones  of  his  ancestors  now ! 

J.  T.  Watson 


OBLIVION.  — (See  Forgetfulness.) 


OBSTINACY  — STUBBORNNESS. 

The  slave  of  arrogance  and  pride, 

He  has  no  hearing  on  the  prudent  side ; 

His  still  refuted  quirks  he  still  repeats, 

New-rais’d  objections  with  new  quibbles  meets** 

Till,  sinking  in  the  quicksand  he  defends, 

F Je  dies,  disputing,  and  the  contest  ends. 

Gowper. 

4^et  them  pull  all  about  mine  ears  ; present  me 
Death  on  the  wheel,  or  at  wild  horses’  heels ; 

Or  pile  ten  hills  on  the  Tarpeian, 

That  the  precipitation  might  down-stretch 
Below  the  b('am  of  sight  — yet  still  will  F 
Bo  thus  to  them. 


SiJAKSPEAJlE. 


OCEAN -SEA. 


429 


You  may  as  wt'Il  go  stand  upon  a beacn, 

And  bid  the  main  flood  bate  his  usual  height; 

You  may  as  well  use  question  with  the  wolf^ 

Why  he  hath  made  the  ew'e  bleat  for  the  laruo; 

You  may  as  w^ell  bid  the  rnouniain  pines 
To  wag  their  high  tops,  and  to  make  no  noise, 

When  they  are  fretted  with  the  guscs  oi  heaven ; 

You  may  as  well  do  any  thing  most  ha^'d, 

As  seek  to  soften  that  (than  w^hich  what ’s  harder  ?)  — 

His  Jewish  heart. 

ShAKSPE  IRB 

For  if  she  will,  she  will  — you  may  depend  on ’t. 

And  if  she  won’t,  she  won’t  — so  there ’s  an  end  on’t. 


OCEAN  — SEA. 

Ocean ! thou  dreadful  and  tumultuous  home 
Of  dangers,  at  eternal  war  with  man, 

Wide  opening  and  loud  roaring  still  for  more ! 

Too  faithful  mirror  ! how  dost  thou  reflect 
The  melancholy  face  of  human  life  ! 

Young’s  JSignr  Hioughts 

Roll  on,  thou  dark  and  deep  blue  Ocean  — roll! 

Ten  thousand  fleets  sweep  over  thee  in  vain  ; 

Man  marks  the  earth  with  ruin  — his  control 
Stops  with  the  shore  ; upon  the  watery  plain 
The  wrecks  are  all  thy  deeds,  nor  doth  remain 
A.  *?hadow  of  man’s  ravage,  save  his  own, 

When,  for  a moment,  like  a drop  of  rain. 

He  sinks  into  thy  depths  with  bubbling  groan, 

Without  a grave,  unknell’d,  uncoffin’d,  and  unknown  ! 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 


430 


OCEAN -SEA. 


(4nce  more  upon  the  waters ! yet  once  more, 

And  the  wavas  bound  beneath  me,  as  a steed 
I'liat  knows  his  rider ! 

Byron’s  Childe 

O’er  the  glad  waters  of  the  dark  blue  sea, 

C.'^ur  thoughts  as  boundless,  and  our  homes  as  free. 

Far  as  the  breeze  can  bear,  the  billows  foam. 

Behold  our  empire  and  survey  our  home  ! 

Byron  s Corsair 

Oh  ! who  can  tell,  save  he  whose  heart  ha^n  irica, 

And  danc'd  in  triumph  o’er  the  waters  wide, 

The  exulting  sense  — the  pulse’s  maddening  play, 

That  thrills  the  wanderer  of  the  trackless  wa)  ! 

Byron’s  Corsair. 


The  polish’d  mirror  of  the  lake^ 

In  which  the  deep  reflected  sky  appears, 

A aim,  sublime  immensity  below. 

Cari.os  Wilcox. 

Like  an  eagle  caged  £ pine. 

On  this  dull,  unchanging  shore ; 

Oh ! give  me  the  flashing  brine, 

The  spray,  and  the  tempest’s  roar! 


The  sea  ! the  sea  ! the  open  sea  ! 

The  blue,  the  fresh,  the  ever  free ! 

'Without  a mark,  without  a bound. 

It  runneth  the  earth’s  wide  region  round ; 

It  plays  with  the  clouds  ; it  mocks  the  sk.es  ^ 

Or  like  a cradled  creature  lies. 

Barry  Cornwall  fpRoeroi). 
Thou  boundless,  shining,  glorious  sea ! 

With  ecstasy^  I gaze  on  thee  ; 

And,  as  1 gaze,  thy  billowy  roll 
Wakes  the  deep  feelings  of  my  soul ! 

From  the  German 


OFFENCE. 


431 


Old  Ocean’s  grey  and  melancholy  waste. 

W.  0.  Bryan  If 

L too,  have  be3n  upon  thy  rolling  breast. 

Wildest  of  waters  ! I have  seen  thee  lie 
Calm,  as  an  infant  pillow’d  in  its  rest 

On  a fond  mother’s  bosom,  when  the  sky, 

Not  smoother,  gave  the  deep  its  azure  dye, 

Till  a new  heaven  was  arch’d  and  glass’d  below. 

J.  G.  Percivai. 

For  every  wave,  with  dimpled  face, 

That  leap’d  upon  the  air, 

Had  caught  a star  in  its  embrace. 

And  held  it  trembling  there! 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Welbt 


OFFENCE. 

In  such  a time  as  this,  it  is  not  meet 

That  every  nice  offence  should  bear  its  comment. 

Shaksfeark. 

What  is  my  offence  ? 

Where  is  the  evidence  that  doth  accuse  me  ? 

What  lawful  ’quest  have  given  this  verdict  up 
Unto  the  frowning  judge? 

Shakspeabb. 

If  my  offence  be  of  such  mortal  kind, 

That  neither  service  past,  nor  present  sorrows. 

Nor  purpos’d  merit  in  futurity. 

Can  ransom  me  into  his  love  again. 

But  to  know  so  much  be  my  benefit ; 

So  shall  I clothe  me  in  a forc’d  content. 

And  shut  myself  up  in  some  other  course 
To  fortune’s  alms. 


Shaksfearb 


4S2 


OFFICE. 


1 he  very  Lead  and  front  of  my  offt  nding: 

Hath  this  extent,  no  more. 

SllAKSPRAftI 

For,  well  you  know,  we  of  th’  offending  side 
Must  keep  aioof  from  strict  arbitrament ; 

And  stop  all  sight-holes,  every  loop,  from  whence 
'I'he  eye  of  reason  may  pry  in  upon  us. 

Sharspfarb. 

All ’s  not  offence  that  indiscretion  finds, 

And  dotage  terms  so. 

Shakspkakk. 

He  hath  wrong’d  his  queen,  but  still  he  is  her  lord  ; 

He  hath  wrong’d  my  sister,  still  he  is  my  brother : 

He  hath  wrong’d  his  people,  still  he  is  their  sovereign. 

And  I must  be  his  friend,  as  well  as  subject : — 

He  must  not  perish  ihus 

Byron’s  Sardanapalus, 


OFFICE. 


To  hold  a place 

In  council,  which  was  once  esteem’d  an  honour, 

And  a reward  for  virtue,  hath  quite  lost 

Lustre  and  reputation,  and  is  made  , 

A mercenary  purchase. 

Massinora. 


When  impious  men  bear  sway, 
The  post  of  honour  is  a private  station. 


A DDISOH 


The  seals  of  office  glitter  in  his  eyes ; 

Be  climbs,  he  pants,  he  grasps  them  ; at  his  heels, 
Close  at  his  heels,  a demagogue  ascends, 

And.  with  a dexterous  jerk,  soon  twists  him  down, 
And  wins  them  but  to  lose  them  in  his  turn. 


CowPEa. 


OLD  AGE -OPINION 


43.^ 


Why,  look  around, 

And  count,  if  possible,  the  pamper’d  numbers^ 

Who  fatten  on  the  state : they  are  the  men. 

Who,  if  tliey  find  a man  too  honourable 
To  be  a fellovv-cfleaner  of  the  spoils, 

When  faction’s  skkie  sweeps  the  public  wealth. 

Lift  up  their  angry  voices  to  the  crowd, 

And  breathe  around  their  pestilential  breath, 

Till  virtue’s  self  is  tainted  by  the  touch. 

Dawes’  Jltlmiia  of  Damascus, 
And  here  and  there  some  stern,  high  patriot  stood, 

Who  could  not  get  the  place  for  v/hich  he  sued. 

Byron’s  Don  Juaru 


OLD  AGE.  — (See  Aqe.J 


OPINION. 

Opinion ’s  but  a fool,  that  makes  us  scan 
The  outward  habit  by  the  inward  man. 

Shakspeare. 

Opinion  is  that  high  and  mighty  dame 

Which  rules  the  world,  and  in  the  mind  doth  frame 

Distastes  or  likings  ; for,  in  human  race, 

She  makes  the  fancy  various  as  the  face. 

Hoy.  EL. 

Let  not  opinion  make  thy  judgment  err  ; 

The  evening  conquest  crowns  the  coiKpieror. 

Lady  Alimokv. 

Opinlonators  naturally  differ 

From  other  men  ; as  wooden  legs  are  stifler 

Than  those  of  pliant  joints,  to  yield  and  bow. 

Which  way  soe’er  they  are  design’d  to  go. 

Butler’s  Hudibras. 


434 


OPPORTUNITY. 


Opinion  governs  all  mankind, 

Like  the  blind  leading  of  the  blind  ; 

For  he  that  has  no  eyes  in ’s  head, 

Must  be  b’  a dog  glad  to  be  led. 

Butler’s  Hudibrtu 
And  nothing ’s  so  perverse  in  nature, 

As  a profound  opinionator. 

Butler’s  Hudibras 
We  all,  my  lords,  have  err’d ; 

Men  may,  I find,  be  honest,  though  they  dififer. 

Thomsom 


OPPORTUNITY. 

There  is  a tide  in  the  affairs  of  men. 

Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune ; 

Omitted,  all  the  voyage* of  their  life 
Is  bound  in  shallows  and  in  miseries. 

On  such  a full  sea  are  we  now  afloat. 

And  we  must  take  the  current  when  it  serves. 

Or  lose  our  ventures. 

SllAKSPEAR*. 

A little  fire  is  quickly  trodden  out. 

Which,  being  suffer’d,  rivers  cannot  quench. 

Shakspearf. 

The  means  that  heaven  yields  must  be  embrac’d. 

And  not  neglected ; else,  if  heaven  would. 

And  we  will  not,  heaven’s  offers  we  refuse. 

The  proffer’d  means  of  succour  and  redress. 

Shakspears. 

Accursed  opportunity  ! 

The  nfidwife  and  the  bawd  to  all  our  vices  : 

That  work’st  our  thoughts  into  desires ; desires 
To  resolutions  ; and  these  being  ripe  and  quicken’d, 

T hou  gt  v’st  them  birth,  and  bring’st  them  forth  to  action. 

Denham 


OPPRESSION  - TYRANNY. 


435 


OPPRESSION  — TYRANNY. 


Oh,  it  is  excellent 

To  have  a giant’s  strength ; but  it  is  tyrannous 
To  use  it  like  a giant 

Shakspeare. 

He  hath  no  friends,  but  who  are  friends  for  fear, 

Who,  in  his  drearest  need,  will  fly  from  him. 

Shakspeakk 

And  many  an  old  man’s  sigh,  and  many  a widow’s. 

And  many  an  orphan’s  water-standing  eye  — 

Men  for  their  sons’,  wives  for  their  husbands’  fate. 

And  orphans  for  their  parents’  timeless  death  — 

Shall  rue  the  hour  that  ever  thou  wast  born. 


Shakspeare. 

’Twixt  kings  and  tyrants  there ’s  this  difference  known, 
Kings  seek  their  subjects’  good,  tyrants  their  own. 

Herrick. 


So  spake  the  fiend,  and  with  necessity. 

The  tyrant’s  plea,  excused  his  devilish  deeds, 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost. 
When  force  invades  the  gift  of  nature,  life, 

The  eldest  law  of  nature,  bids  defence ; 

And  if  in  that  defence  a tyrant  fall. 

His  death ’s  his  crime,  not  ours. 


Dryden. 

I am  told  thou  call’st  thyself  a king ; 

Know,  if  thou  art  one,  that  the  poor  have  rights ; 

And  power,  in  ail  its  pride,  is  less  than  justice. 

Aaron  Hlll. 


Where,  alas, 

is  innocence  secure  ? Rapine  and  spoil 

Haunt  e’er  the  lowest  deeps  : seas  have  their  shaiks; 

Rivers  and  ponds  enclose  the  ravenous  pike. 

And  he’s  in  turn  th’  amphibious  otter’s  prey. 

Somervile’s  Chant. 


436 


ORATOR. 


Shall  we  resign 

Our  hopes,  renounce  our  rights,  forget  our  wrongs. 
Because  an  irripotent  lip  beneath  a crown 
Cries,  “ Be  it  so  ?” 

Sir  a.  Hum 

Th’  oppressive,  sturdy,  man-destroying  villains. 

Who  ravag’d  kingdoms,  and  laid  empires  waste. 

And,  in  a cruel  wantonness  of  power, 

I’hinn’d  states  of  half  their  people,  and  gave  up 
To  want  the  rest. 

Blair’s  Giave, 

Think’st  thou  there  is  no  tyranny  but  that 
Of  blood  and  chains?  The  despotism  of  vice  — 

* The  weakness  and  the  wickedness  of  luxury  — 

The  negligence,  the  apathy,  the  evils 
Of  sensual  sloth  — produce  ten  thousand  tyrants, 

Whose  delegated  cruelty  surpasses 
The  worst  acts  of  one  energetic  master, 

However  harsh  and  hard  in  his  own  bearing. 

Byron’s  Sardanapalm. 

To  trample  on  all  human  feelings,  all 
Ties  which  bind  man  to  man,  to  emulate 
The  fiends,  who  will  ene  day  requite  them  in 
Variety  of  torturing. 

Byron’s  Two  Foscari 

Tyranny ’s  the  worst  of  treasons.  The  prince,  who 
Neglects  or  violates  his  trust,  is  more 
A brigand  than  the  robber-chief. 

Byron’s  Tivo  Foscavx 


ORATOR.  — (See  Eloquence.) 


ORDER -PAIN. 


437 


ORDER. 

Order,  thou  eye  of  action  ! wanting  thee, 

Wisdom  works  hoodwink’d  in  perplexity, 

Entangled  reason  trips  at  every  pace, 

And  truth,  bespotted,  puts  on  error’s  face. 

Aaron  Hill. 

Order  is  heaven’s  first  law ; and  this  confess’d, 

Some  are,  and  must  be,  greater  than  the  rest. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man. 


PAIN. 


The  poor  beetle,  that  we  tread  upon. 

In  corporal  suffering  feels  a pang  as  great 
As  when  a giant  dies. 

Skakspeari.. 


Our  pains  are  real  things,  and  all 
Our  pleasures  but  fantastical ; 
Diseases  of  their  own  accord. 

But  cures  come  difficult  and  hard. 


Butler’s  Hudihras. 
And  heard  the  everlasting  yawn  confess 
The  pain,  the  misery  of  idleness. 

Pope 


Again  the  play  of  pain 
Shoots  o’er  his  features,  as  the  sudden  gust 
Crisps  the  reluctant  lake,  that  lay  so  calm 
Beneath  the  mountain  shadow. 

Byrow. 


A saint  had  cried  out. 

Even  with  tiie  crown  of  glory  in  his  eyes, 
At  such  inhuman  artifice  of  pain 
As  was  forced  on  him. 


Byron’s  Ttvo  Foscurv 


438 


PAINTING  - PORTRAIT. 


• PAINTING  ■—  PORTRAIT. 

Good  heaven ! that  sots  and  knaves  should  be  so  vain* 

To  wish  their  vile  remembrance  may  remain ! 

And  stand  recorded,  at  their  own  request, 

To  future  days,  a libel  or  a jest. 

Drydem 

Hv  ;re  fabled  chiefs,  in  darker  ages  bom. 

Or  worthies  old,  whom  arms  or  arts  adorn. 

Who  cities  raised,  or  tamed  a monstrous  race. 

The  walls  in  venerable  order  grace : 

Heroes  in  animated  marble  frown. 

And  legislators  seem  to  think  in  stone. 

Pope’s  Temple  of  Fame 
All  that  imagination’s  power  could  trace. 

Breath’d  in  the  Pencil’s  imitative  grace ; 

O’er  all  the  canvas,  form,  and  soul,  and  feeling, 

That  wondrous  art  infus’d  with  power  of  life ; 

Portray’d  each  pulse,  each  passion’s  might  revealing, 
Sorrow  and  joy,  life,  haired,  fear,  and  strife. 

From  the  Spanish 

This  is  the  pictur’d  likeness  of  my  love : 

How  true  to  life  ! It  seems  to  breathe  and  move ; 

Fire,  love,  and  sweetness  o’er  each  feature  melt ; 

The  face  expresses  all  the  spirit  felt ; 

Here,  while  I gaze  within  those  large,  dark  eyes, 

I almost  see  the  living  spirit  rise ; 

While  lights  and  shadows,  all  harmonious,  glow, 

And  heavenly  radiance  settles  on  that  brow. 

And  then  that  mouth  ! — how  tranquil  its  repose  ! 

Sleeping  in  fragrance,  like  a sleeping  rose  ; 

It  seems  the  ruby  gate  of  love  and  bliss. 

Just  form’d  to  murmur  sighs,  to  smile,  and  kiss ! 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Wblbf. 


PASSIONS  - FEELING. 


439 


His  pencil  v/as  striking,  resistless  and  grand ; 

His  manners  were  gentle,  complying,  and  bland  ; 

Still  born  to  improve  us  in  every  part, 

His  pencil  our  faces,  his  manners  our  heart. 

Goldsmith’s  Rttaliaiim 


PARASITE.  — (See  Courtier.) 


PARENTS.  — (See  Father.) 


PARTING.  — (See  Adieu.) 


PASSIONS— FEELING. 

Passions  are  liken’d  best  to  floods  and  streams ; 

The  shallow  murmur,  but  the  deep  are  dumb ; 

So,  when  affection  yields  discourse,  it  seems 
The  bottom  is  but  shallow  whence  they  come. 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 

A little  fire  is  quickly  trodden  out. 

Which,  being  sufler’d,  rivers  cannot  quench. 

Shakspeare 

Affection  is  a coal  that  must  be  cool’d, 

Else,  suffer’d,  it  will  set  the  heart  on  fire. 

SlIAKSPEARE 

As  fruits,  ungrateful  to  the  planter’s  care. 

On  savage  stocks  inserted,  learn  to  bear, 

The  surest  virtues  thus  from  passions  shoot. 

Wild  nature’s  vigour  working  at  the  root. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 


4-\0 


PASSIONS  - FKETJNG. 


The  ruling  passion,  be  it  what  it  will, 

The  ruling  passion  conquers  reason  still. 

Por «. 

Like  mighty  rivers,  wiih  resistless  force 
The  passions  rage,  obstructed  in  their  course, 

Swell  to  new  heights,  forbidden  paths  exjilore. 

And  drown  those  virtues  which  they  fed  before. 

Poi’E, 

The  worst  of  slaves  is  he  w'hom  passion  rules. 

Brooks. 

When  headstrong  passion  gets  the  reins  of  reason, 

The  force  of  nature,  like  too  strong  a gale, 

For  want  of  ballast,  oversets  the  vessel. 

Higoons. 

While  passions  glow,  the  heart,  like  heated  steel, 

Takes  each  impression,  and  is  wmrked  at  pleasure 

Young's  Busiris, 

Then  shall  the  fury  Passions  tear, 

The  vultures  of  the  mind;  — 

Disdainful  Anger,  pallid  Fear, 

And  Shame,  that  skulks  behind; 

Or  pining  Love  shall  waste  their  youth. 

Or  Jealousy,  with  rankling  tooth. 

That  inly  gnaws  the  secret  heart ; 

And  Envy  wan,  and  faded  Care, 

Grini-visag’d,  comfortless  Despair, 

And  Sorrow’s  piercing  dart 

Grai 

His  soul,  like  bark  with  -udder  lost. 

On  passion’s  changeful  ade  was  toss’d. 

Nor  vice  nor  virtue  had  the  power 
Beyond  the  im[)ression  of  the  hour:  — 

And,  Oh,  wh(?n  [)assiori  rules,  how  rare 
The  hours  that  fall  to  virtue’s  share ! 


Scott’  Ji’okeby 


PASSIONS -FEELING 


441 


Mow  terrible  is  passion  ! how  our  reason 
Fallf  down  before  it,  while  the  tortur’d  frame, 

Like  a ship  dash’d  by  fierce  encountering  tides, 

And  of  her  pilot  spoil’d,  drives  round  and  round, 

I'he  sport  of  wind  and  wave, 

Barforp’s  Virgin  Queen, 
The  passions  are  a numerous  crowd, 

Imperious,  positive,  and  loud. 

O,  how  the  passions,  insolent  and  strong, 

Bear  our  weak  minds  their  rapid  course  along;  * 

Make  us  the  madness  of  their  will  obey ; 

Then  die,  and  leave  us  to  our  griefs  a prey  ! 

CRABad 

Ah  ! within  my  bosom  beating. 

Varying  passions  wildly  reign  ; 

Love,  with  proud  resentment  meeting. 

Throbs,  by  turn,  with  joy  and  pain ! 

Mrs.  Robinson 

As  rolls  the  ocean’s  changing  tide. 

So  human  passions  ebb  and  flow. 

Byron 

The  keenest  pangs  the  wretched  And 
Are  rapture  to  the  dreary  void. 

The  leafless  desert  of  the  mind, 

The  waste  of  feelings  unemploy’d. 

Byron’s  Giaour. 

The  cold  in  clime  are  cold  in  blood. 

Their  love  can  scarce  deserve  the  name . ^ 

But  mine  was  like  the  lava-flood 
That  boils  in  Etna’s  breast  of  flame. 

Byron’s  Giaour 

For  on  his  brow  the  swelling  vein 
Throbb’d,  as  if  back  upon  his  brain 
The  iot  blood  ebb’d  and  flow’d  again. 

Barron’s  Purisina 


442 


PASSIONS  - FEELING. 


There  are  some  feelings  time  cannot  ben u mu. 

Byron’s  CJiilde  IJarohl 

An  empire  thou  couldst  crush,  command,  rebuild. 

But  govern  not  thy  pettiest  passion. 

Byron’s  Childe  HaroU 

Admire  — exult  — despise  — laugh  — weep  — for  here 
There  is  much  matter  for  all  feeling. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold 
My  passions  were  all  living  serpents,  and 
Twin’d,  like  the  gorgons,  round  me. 

Byron’s  PCemer 

It  was  not  strange  ; for  in  the  human  breast 
Two  master  passions  cannot  co-exist. 

Campbell. 

The  wildest  ills  that  darken  life 
Are  rapture  to  the  bosom’s  strife; 

The  tempest,  in  its  blackest  form, 

Is  beauty  to  the  bosom’s  storm. 

J.  W.  Eastburnl 

And  underneath  that  face,  like  summer’s  ocean’s, 

Its  lip  as  noiseless,  and  its  cheek  as  clear. 

Slumbers  a whirlwind  of  the  heart’s  emotions, 

Love — hatred — pride — hope — sorrow — all,  save  fear. 

Fitz-green  Halleck 

But,  all  in  vain,  to  thought’s  tumultuous  flow 
1 strive  to  give  the  strength  of  glowing  words ; 

The  waves  of  feeling,  tossing  to  and  fro, 

In  broken  music  o’er  my  heart’s  loose  chords, 

Give  but  their  fainting  echoes  from  my  soul. 

As  thro’  its  silent  depths  their  wild,  swift  currents  roll, 

Mrs.  Amelia  B Welbi 
’Tis  chainless  as  the  mountain  tide. 

That  its  resistless  way  doth  force, 

O er  crags  and  cliffs  on  either  side. 

Right  onward  in  its  headlong  course, 


J.  T.  Watsom 


PATIENCE  - PATRIOTISM  - PEACE. 


443 


PATIENCE.  — (See  Impatienc*.) 


PATRIOIISM.  — (See  Country. p 


PEACE. 

Now  is  the  winter  of  our  discontent 
Made  glorious  summer  by  this  sun  of  York  ; 

And  all  the  clouds,  that  lower’d  upon  our  house, 

In  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ocean  buried. 

Shakspeari 

In  peace,  there ’s  nothing  so  becomes  a man 
As  modest  stillness  and  humility. 

Shakspeare 

The  trenchant  blade,  Toledo  trusty, 

For  want  of  fighting  was  grown  rusty, 

And  ate  into  itself,  for  lack 
Of  somebody  to  hew  and  hack. 

Butler’s  Hudihraa. 

Oh,  peace ! thou  source  and  soul  of  social  life ; 

Beneath  whose  calm,  inspiring  influence 
Science  his  view  enlarges,  Art  refines. 

And  swelling  Commerce  opens  all  her  ports ; 

Blest  be^the  man  divine  who  gave  us  thee ! 

Thohsom 

Now  no  more  the  drum 
Provokes  to  arms,  or  trumpet’s  clangour  shrill 
Affrights  ih^  wives,  or  chills  the  virgins’  blood ; 

But  joy  and  pleasure  open  to  the  view 
Uninterrupted. 


Philips’  (Mer 


444 


PEASANT  - PEDIGK  EE  - PERFECJTGN 


Oh  ! there  were  hours  .vhen  ihrillintr  joy  repaid 
A long,  long  course  of  darkness,  doubts,  and  fearn  - 
The  heartsick  kiintness  of  the  hope  delay’d, 

Thf  waste,  the  woes,  the  bloodshed,  and  the  tears, 

That  track’d  with  terror  twenty  rolling  years ! 

Scott’s  Loid  of  the  Ihltt 
Peace  is  the  bounteous  goddess  vvho  bestows 
Weddings,  and  holidays,  and  joyous  feasts. 

Relations,  friends,  health,  plenty,  social  comforts, 

And  pleasures  which  alone  make  life  a blessing. 

Cumberland’s  PhUfvum 


PEASANT.  — (See  Blacksmith.) 


PEDIGREE.  — (See  Ancestry.) 


, PERFECTION 

To  gild  refined  gold,  to  paint  the  lily, 

To  throAV  a perfum’e  on  the  violet. 

To  smooth  the  ice,  or  add  another  hue 

Unto  the  rainbow,  or  with  taper  light 

To  seek  the  beauteous  eye  of  heaven  to  garnish, 

Is  wasteful  and  ridiculous  excess. 

Shakspe 

Nature  in  her  productions,  slow,  aspires 
By  just  degrees  to  reach  perfection’s  height. 

Somervile’s  Chase 

So  slow 

The  growth  of  what  is  excellent ; so  hard 
Ti'’  attain  perfection  in  this  nether  world. 


Cowper’si  To^k 


PEKIL-PERSFJVE[IANCE,  Slc, 


4 


Oh  ! she  was  perfect  past  all  parallel. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 
[ have  been  often  dazzled  by  the  blaze 
Of  sunlike  beauty  ; but,  till  now,  ne’er  knew 
Perfected  loveliness  — all  the  harmonies 
Of  form,  of  feeture,  and  of  soul,  display’d 
In  one  bright  creature. 

S.  P.  Chase. 


PERIL.  — (See  Danger.) 


PERSEVERANCE.  — (See  Idleness.) 


PHILANTHROP  Y,  — (See  Kindness.) 


PHILOSOPHY. 

[ pray  thee,  peace  ; I will  be  flesh  and  blood ; 

For  there  was  never  yet  philosopher 
That  could  endure  the  toothache  patiently  , 

However  they  have  writ  the  style  of  gods, 

And  made  a pish  at  chance  and  sufferance. 

Shakspeake 

There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio, 

Than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy. 

Shakspeake. 

How  charming  is  divine  Philosophy  ! 

Not  harsh  and  crabbed  as  dull  fools  suppose, 

But  musical  as  is  Apollo’s  lute. 

And  a perpetual  feast  of  nectar’d  sweets. 

Where  no  crude  surfeit  reigns. 


Milton's  Co7iiH« 


446 


PHRENOLOGY. 


Philosophy  consists  not 
In  airy  schemes,  or  idle  speculations  : 

The  rule  and  conduct  of  all  social  life 
Is  her  great  province* 

Thomwr 

Alas ! had  reason  ever  yet  the  power 
To  talk  down  grief,  or  bid  the  tortur’d  wretch 
Not  feel  his  anguish  ? ’T  is  impossible  ! 

Whitehead 


Divine  philosophy  ! by  whose  pure  light 
We  first  distinguish,  then  pursue  the  right ; 

Thy  power  the  breast  from  every  error  frees, 

And  weeds  out  all  its  vices  by  degrees. 

Gifford’s  Juven^ 

Oh,  who,  that  has  ever  had  rapture  complete, 

Would  ask  how  we  feel  it,  or  why  it  is  sweet? 

How  rays  are  confus’d,  or  how  particles  fly 
Through  the  medium  refin’d  of  a glance  or  a sigh? 

Is  there  one,  who  but  once  would  not  rather  have  known  it, 
Than  written,  like  Harvey,  whole  volumes  upofa  it  ? 

MooA£ 

Sublime  Philosophy ! 

Thou  art  the  patriarch’s  ladder,  reaching  heaven. 

And  bright  with  beckoning  angels  ; oui,  alas  I 
We  see  thee,  like  the  patriarch,  but  in  dreams. 

By  the  first  step,  dull  slumbering  on  the  earth. 

• Bulwer’s 


PHRENOLOGY. 

For  of  the  soul  the  body  form  doth  take ; 

For  soul  is  form,  and  doth  the  body  make. 

Spenser. 


PHYSICIAN -PHY,  &,c. 


447 


In  vain  we  fondly  strive  to  trace 
The  soul’s  reflection  in  the  face  ; 

In  vain  we  dwell  on  lines  and  crosses, 

Crooked  mouths,  or  short  proboscis. 

Boobies  have  look’d  as  wise  and  bright 
As  l^lato  or  the  Stagyrite; 

And  many  a sage  and  learned  skull 

Has  peep’d  through  windows  dark  and  dull. 

Moorb. 

And  yet,  in  spite  of  ridicule,  and  all 

The  wit,  which,  Bumpo  says,  so  often  stirs  him, 

Unless  upon  one’s  head  a Combe  may  fall, 

A sharper  and  a Fowler  thing  than  Gall 
Be-Gnmes  him  SavageAy^  and  sorely  Spurz-h[e^im, 

J.  T.  Watson 


PHYSICIAN.  — (See  Disease.) 


PITY.  — (See  Forgiveness.) 


PLEASURE.  — (See  Enjoyment.) 


POET  — POETRY. 

The  poet’s  eye,  in  a fine  frenzy  rolling. 

Doth  glance  from  heaven  to  earth,  from  earth  to  heaven , 

And,  as  imagination  bodies  forth 

The  forms  of  things  unknown,  the  poet’s  pen 

Turns  them  to  shapes,  and  gives  to  airy  nothing 

A local  habitation  and  a name. 


Shakspeare. 


448 


POKT- POETRY. 


I ’(i  rather  be  a kitten,  and  cry,  mew, 

Than  one  of  those  same  metre  ballad-mongers. 

SlIAKSI»E\RK. 

Who  first  found  out  that  curse, 

T’  imprison  and  confine  h‘s  thoughts  in  verse, 

To  hang  so  dull  a clog  upon  the  wit. 

And  make  his  reason  to  h's  rhyme  submit. 

Butler 

As  wine,  that  with  its  own  weight  luns,  is  best. 

And  counted  much  more  noble  than  the  rest, 

So  is  the  Poetry,  whose  generous  strains 
Flow  without  servile  study,  art,  or  pains. 

Butler, 

But  those,  that  write  in  rhyme,  still  make 
The  one  verse  for  the  other’s  sake ; 

For  one  for  sense,  and  one  for  rhyme,  * 

I think ’s  sufficient  at  one  time. 

Butler’s  Huclibras 

And  rhyme  the  rudder  is  of  verses. 

With  which,  like  ships,  they  steer  their  courses. 

B UTL  E r’ s Hu  (lib  ras 

Read,  meditate,  reflect,  grow  wise  — in  vain  ; 

Try  every  help,  force  fire  from  every  spark ; 

Yet  shall  you  ne’er  the  poet’s  power  attain. 

If  heaven  ne’er  stamp’d  you  with  the  muses’  mark. 

Aaron  Hill 

ni’hen,  rising  with  Aurora’s  light. 

The  muse  invok’d,  sit  down  to  write. 

Blot  out  correct,  insert,  refine, 

Enlarge,  diminish,  interline; 

Be  mindful,  when  invention  fails, 

'J’o  scratch  your  head,  and  bite  your  nails. 

Dean  Swift. 

Thou  source  of  all  my  bliss,  of  all  my  woe, 

Ihoa  found’st  me  poor  at  first,  and  keep’st  me  so! 

Goldsi^iith. 


POET -POETRY. 


449 


X needless  Alexandrine  ends  the  song, 

That,  like  a wounded  snake,  drags  its  slow  length  along. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism 
Erer  copious  Dryden  wanted,  or  forgot, 

The  last  and  greatest  art  — the  art  to  blot. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Cufictsm 

Married  to  immortal  verse. 

Such  as  meeting  souls  may  pierce. 

In  notes  of  many  a winding  bout, 

!n  linked  sweetness  long  drawn  out. 

Milton 

There  is  a pleasure  in  poetic  pains, 

That  none  but  poets  know. 

Wordsworth, 


And  I have  felt 

A passion  that  disturb’d  me  with  the  joy 
Of  elevated  thoughts  ; a sense  sublime 
Of  something  far  more  deeply  interpos’d, 

Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  sun, 

And  the  round  ocean,  and  the  living  air. 

And  the  blue  sky,  and  on  the  mind  of  man. 

Wordsworth. 


’Tis  long  disputed,  whether  poets  claim 
From  art  or  nature  their  best  right  to  fame ; 

But  art,  if  not  enrich’d  by  nature’s  vein, 

And  a rude  genius  of  uncultur’d  strain, 
re  useless  both  ; but  when  in  friendship  join’d, 

A mutual  succour  in  each  other  find. 

Francis’  Horace. 


But  he,  the  bard  of  every  age  and  clime. 

Of  genius  fruitful,  and  of  soul  sublime. 

Who,  from  the  glowing  mint  of  fancy,  pours 
No  spurious  metal,  fused  from  common  ores. 

But  gold,  to  matchless  purity  refin’d, 

A.nd  stamp’d  with  all  the  godhead  in  his  mind. 

Gn  ford’s  Juvenal 

29 


460 


POET  - POKTUy. 


A theme  well  fitted  to  inspire 
1'he  purest  frenzy  of  poetic  hre. 


JOKL  BaRI.OW 


But  which  deserves  the  laurel,  rhyme  or  blank? 

Which  holds  on  Helicon  the  highest  rank  ? — 

Let  squabbling  critics  by  themselves  dispute 
This  point,  as  puzzling  as  a Chancery  suit. 

Byron’s  Jmita/iuni, 

Oh  ! how  I hate  the  nerveless,  frigid  song, 

The  ceaseless  echo  of  the  rhyming  throng; 

Whose  labour’d  lines  in  chilling  numbers  flow, 

To  paint  a pang  the  author  ne’er  can  know  I 

Byron. 


Many  are  poets  who  have  never  perm’d 
Their  inspiration. 

Byron. 


Not  a stone  on  their  turf,  or  a line  on  their  graves, 

But  they  live  by  the  verse  that  immortally  saves. 

Byron’s  Siege  of  Corinth. 
In  liquid  lines,  mellifluously  bland. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 


To  whom  the  lyre  and  laurels  have  been  given. 

With  all  the  trophies  of  triumphant  song  — 

He  won  them  well,  and  may  he  wear  them  long ! 

Byron’s  Don  Juan 

Over  the  harp,  from  earliest  years  belov’d, 

He  threw  his  lingers  hurriedly,  and  tones 
Of  melancholy  beauty  died  away, 

Ui)on  its  strings  of  sweetness. 


He  touch’d  his  harp,  and  nations  heard,  entranc’d ; 

As  some  vast  river  of  unfailing  source. 

Rapid,  exhaustless,  deep,  his  numbers  flow’d, 

And  oped  new  feelings  in  the  human  heart. 

Pollok’s  Course  of  Time. 


POET -POETRY. 


451 


’Tis  not  the  cliime  and  flow  of  words,  that  move 
In  measur’d  file,  and  metrical  array  : 

’T  is  not  the  union  of  returning  sounds, 

Nor  all  the  pleasing  artifice  of  rhyme, 

And  quantity,  and  accent. 

J.  G.  Perciv.%l. 

He  pour’d  his  heart’s  full  affluence  in  song. 

And  good  and  bad  went  reconcil’d  together. 

Dawes’  Geraldint 

As  nightingales  do  upon  glow-worms  feed. 

So  poets  live  upon  the  living  light 
Of  nature  and  of  beauty,  — 

Feeding  their  souls  upon  the  soft,  and  sweet. 

And  delicate  imaginings  of  song. 

Bailey’s  Festus 

Immortal  bard  ! thy  name  shall  be  enroll’d 
Among  the  first  to  claim  the  poet’s  crown  ; 

Thy  fame  the  archives  of  the  world  unfold. 

And  future  times  shall  tell  of  thy  renown. 

Sherburne,  on  Byron 

Where  sense  with  sound,  and  ease  with  weight,  combine 
In  the  pure  silver  of  Pope’s  ringing  line ; 

Or  where  the  pulse  of  man  beats  loud  and  strong. 

In  the  frank  flow  of  Dryden’s  lusty  song. 

The  New  Thnon 

But  it  was  love  that  taught  me  rhyme, 

And  it  was  thou  that  taught  me  love; 

And  if  I in  this  idle  chime 

Of  words  a useless  sluggard  prove, 

It  was  thine  eyes  the  habit  nurs’d, 

And  in  their  light  I learn ’d  it  first. 

C.  F.  IIoFFWAPf. 

And,  long  as  poetry  shall  charm  mankind. 

His  flowing  numbers  will  admirers  find. 


J.  T-  Watson. 


452 


POETRY  - J’OLITKNESS  - POLITICS. 


Whose  song  gush’d  from  his  heart 

As  showers  from  the  clouds  of  summer, 

Or  tea’^  from  the  eyelids  start. 

W.  Longfellow 


POETRY.  — (See  Poet.) 


POLITENESS.  — (See  Etiquefte.) 


POLITICS. 

A politic.’an,  Proteus-like,  must  alter 
His  face  and  habit ; and,  like  water,  seem 
Of  the  same  colour  that  the  vessel  is 
That  doth  contain  it,  varying  his  form. 

With  the  chameleon,  at  each  object’s  change. 

Masow. 

Dull  rogues  affect  the  politician’s  part, 

And  learn  to  nod,  and  smile,  and  shrug  with  art;  — 

Who  nothing  has  to  lose,  the  war  bewails  ; 

And  he,  who  nothing  pays,  at  taxes  rails. 

Congreve. 

Your  politicians 

Have  evermore  a taint  of  vanity  ; 

As  hasty  still  to  show  and  boast  a plot, 

As  they  are  greedy  to  contrive  it. 

Sir  W.  Davenant. 

All  would  be  deem’d,  e’en  from  the  cradle,  fit 
To  rule  in  politics,  as  well  as  wit ; 

The  grave,  the  gay,  the  fopling,  and  the  dunce, 

Start  up  (God  bless  us  !)  statesmen  all  at  once ! 

Chitrcriu:. 


POPULARITY  - PORTRAIT.  &c. 


453 


Who’s  in  or  out,  who  moves  the  grand  machine, 

Nor  stirs  mj  curiosity  nor  spleen  ; 

Secrets  of  state  no  more  1 wish  to  know, 

Than  secret  movements  of  a puppet-show  : 

Let  but  the  puppets  move,  I ’ve  my  desire. 

Unseen  the  hand  that  guides  the  master  wire. 

CHURCaiLLv 


POPULARITY.  — (See  Applause.) 


PORTRAIT.  — (See  Painting.) 


POVERTY.  — (See  Indigence.) 


POWER.  — (See  Greatness.  ) 


PRAISE^.  — (See  Flattery.) 


PRAYER  — RELIGION  --  VIRTUE. 

How  far  the  little  candle  throws  his  beams  ! 

So  shines  a good  deed  in  a naughty  world. 

Sh,.4.KSFRAB1 

Had  1 but  serv’d  my  God  with  half  the  zeal 
I serv’d  my  king,  he  would  not,  in  mine  age, 

Have  left  me  to  mine  enemies. 

ShAKSFE  AS®. 

Elach  must,  in  virtue,  strive  for  to  excel ; 

The  man  lives  twice,  who  lives  the  first  life  weU. 

Heurick. 


454 


PRAYER-RELIGIOIN  - VIRTUE. 


Shall  ignorance  of  good  and  ill 
Dare  to  direct  th’  eternal  will  ? 

Seek  virtue ; and,  of  that  possess’d, 

To  Providence  resign  the  rest. 

Gay’s  Fables. 

His  pure  thoughts  were  borne 
Like  fumes  of  sacred  incense  o’er  the  clouds. 

And  vtafted  thence  on  angels’  wings,  through  ways 
Of  light  to  the  bright  Source  of  all. 

Congreve 

For  blessings  ever  wait  on  virtuous  deeds. 

And  though  a late,  a sure  reward  succeeds. 

Congreve’s  Mourning  Bride 

Virtue  may  be  assail’d,  but  never  hurt ; 

Surpris’d  by  unjust  force,  but  not  enthrall’d ; 

Yet  even  that,  which  mischief  meant  most  harm. 

Shall  in  the  happy  trial  prove  most  glory. 

Milton’s  Comus. 

Then  to  be  good  is  to  be  happy  ; angels 

Are  happier  than  mankind,  because  they  ’re  better. 

Rowe. 

He  patient  show’d  us  the  wise  course  to  steer, 

A candid  censor,  and  a friend  sincere ; 

He  taught  us  how  to  Uve ; and  (Oh  ! too  high 
The  price  of  knowleage)  taught  us  how  to  die. 

Tickell,  on  the  Death  of  Jiddisoru 

Sure  the  last  end 

Of  the  good  man  is  peace  ! — how  calm  his  exit ! 
Night-dews  fall  not  more  gently  to  the  ground. 

Nor  weary,  worn-out  winds  expire  so  soft ! 

Blair’s  Grave. 

Wriat  nothing  earthly  gives  or  can  destroy. 

The  soul’s  calm  sunshine,  and  the  heartfelt  joy, 

Is  virtue’s  prize. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Man, 


PRAYER  - RELIGION  - VIRTUE. 


455 


Know  then  this  truth,  (enough  for  man  to  know,' 

Virtue  alone  is  happiness  below. 

♦ Pope’s  Essay  on  Man 

She  points  the  arduous  height  where  glory  lies, 

And  teaches  mad  ambition  to  be  wise. 

Pon 

Beside  the  bed  where  parting  life  was  laid. 

And  sorrow,  guilt,  and  pain  by  turns  dismay’d, 

The  reverend  champion  stood.  At  his  control. 

Despair  and  anguish  fled  the  struggling  soul  : 

Comfort  came  down,  the  trembling  wretch  to  raise, 

And  his  last,  faltering  accents  whisper’d  praise. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  Village 

Virtue  on  herself  relying. 

Every  passion  hush’d  to  rest, 

Loses  every  pain  of  dying 
In  the  hope  of  being  blest. 


Goldsmith 


Virtue  in  itself  commands  its  happiness, 

Of  every  outward  object  independent. 

Virtue 

Stands  like  the  sun,  and  all  which  rolls  around 
Drinks  life,  and  light,  and  glory,  from  her  aspect. 


Francis 


Bvron 


And  let  not  this  seem  strange  ; the  devotee 
Lives  not  on  earth,  but  in  his  ecstasy ; 

Around  him  days  and  worlds  are  heedless  driven, 

His  <^oul  is  gone,  before  his  dust,  to  heaven. 

Byron’s  Island 

— While  he  lives. 

To  know  no  bliss  but  that  which  virtue  gives ; 

And  when  he  dies,  to  leave  a lofty  name, 

A light,  a landmark  on  the  cl'fTs  of  fame. 

Moore’s  Lalla  Rookh^ 


45(> 


PREFERMENT  - PRESS  - PRESUMPTION 


Count  life  by  virtues  — these  will  last 
When  life’s  lame-footed  race  is  o’er; 

And  these,  when  earthly  joys  «are  past, 

Shall  cheer  us  on  a brighter  shore. 

Mrs.  S.  J.  IUu 


PREFERMENT. 

For  places  in  the  court  are  but  like  beds 
In  the  hospital,  where  this  man’s  head  lies 
At  that  man’s  foot,  and  so  lower  and  lower. 

Webs'iehu 

’T  is  the  curse  of  service ; 

Preferment  goes  by  letter  and  affection, 

Not  by  the  old  gradation,  when  each  second 
Stood  heir  to  the  first. 

Shakspeare. 

If  on  the  sudden  he  begins  to  rise, 

No  man  that  lives  can  count  his  enemies. 

Middleton 

All  preferment. 

That  springs  from  sin  and  lust,  shoots  quickly  up, 

As  gard’ners’  crops  do  in  the  rottenest  grounds. 

Middleton. 


PRESS.  — (See  Books, 


PRESUMPTION. 

1 was  indeed  delirious  in  my  heart. 

To  lift  my  love  so  lofty  as  thou  art ; 

'Phai  thou  wert  beautiful,  and  I not  blind,  • 
Hath  been  my  sin. 


bVKOW 


PRIDE -VA]\  IT  Y. 


457 


If  Ms  presumption  for  a wretch  condemned 
To  throw  himself  beneath  his  judges’  feet,  — 

A Doldness  more  than  this  I never  knew. 

Dryden. 

Dut  think  not,  because  at  your  words  I ne’er  frown, 

That  I’ll  ever  one  spark  of  regard  to  you  lend : 

We  smile  at  the  sallies  and  jokes  of  a clown, — 

But  we  think  not  of  making  the  fellow  our  friend. 

J.  T.  Watson. 


PRIDE  — VANITY. 

Man,  proud  man, 

Dress’d  in  a little  brief  authority. 

Plays  such  fantastic  tricks  before  high  heaven, 

As  make  the  angels  weep. 

Shaksfeare. 

One  whom  the  music  of  his  own  vain  tongue 
Doth  ravish  like  enchanting  harmony. 

Shakspease. 

Of  all  the  causes  which  conspire  to  blind 
Man’s  erring  judgment,  and  mislead  the  mind, 

W^hat  the  weak  head  with  strongest  bias  rules. 

Is  Pride  — that  never-failing  vice  of  fools. 

Pope’s  Essay  on  Criticism, 

Here  beggar  pride  defrauds  her  daily  cheer. 

To  boast  one  splendid  banquet  once  a year. 

Goldsmith’s  Travelltr. 
Here  vanity  assumes  her  pert  grimace. 

Goldsmith’s  Traveller, 
Though  the  rock  of  my  last  hope  is  shiver’d, 

And  its  fragments  are  sunk  in  the  wave. 

Though  I feel  that  my  soul  is  deliver’d 
To  pain  — it  shall  not  be  its  slave. 


Byron. 


458  ^ 


PRISON -PRISONER,  &o. 


And  with  stern  patience,  scorning  weak  complaint, 
Hardens  his  ht^art  against  assailing  want. 

Byron’s  Clitlde  Harold 
Stern  and  erect  his  orow  was  rais’d ; — 

Whate’er  the  grief  his  soul  avow’d, 

He  would  not  shrink  before  the  crowd. 

Byron’s  ParisiruL 

Ti’he  hardest  trial  of  a generous  mind, 

Is  tc  court  favour  from  the  hand  it  scorns. 

Aaron  Hill. 

Froud  has  been  my  fatal  passion. 

Proud  my  injur’d  heart  shall  be. 

While  each  thought  and  inclination 
Still  shall  prove  me  worthy  thee. 

Mr 3.  Robinson. 

That  proud  heart  had  been  given  to  one 
Who  sought  it  not  to  win, 

And  now  she  only  strove  to  hide 
The  burning  shame  within. 

Miss  L.  E.  Landon. 
And  her\ceforth  learn. 

Never  your  equals  from  your  path  to  spurn ; 

For  your  superiors  will  not  you  endure. 

And  slighted  equals  will  not,  I am  sure. 

J.  T.  Watbok. 

PRISON.  — (See  Imprisonment.) 


PRISONER.  — (See  Imprisonment.) 


PROCRASTIN  ATlON.-~(See  Deiay.) 


PROPOSAL.  — (See  Declaration.) 


PROSPERITY.  — (See  Enjoyment.) 


PROVIDENCE -RAINBOW,  &,c. 


459 


PROVIDENCE.  — (See  God.) 
PRUDENCE.  — (See  Caution.) 


PUNISHMENT. 

0,  heaven ! that  such  companions  thou  ’dst  unfold, 

And  put  in  every  honest  hand  a whip 
To  lash  the  rascal  naked  through  the  world. 

Shakspearc. 

Where  sits  the  offence, 

Let  the  fault’s  punishment  be  deriv’d  from  thence. 

Middleton. 

He ’s  a bad  surgeon,  that,  for  pity,  spares 
The  part  corrupted,  till  the  gangrene  spread. 

And  all  the  body  perish  ; he  that ’s  merciful 
Unto  the  bad,  is  cruel  to  the  just. 

Randolph. 


PURI  TY.  — (See  Innocence.) 


QUACKS.  — (See  Disease.) 


RABBLE.  — (See  Mob.) 


RAGE.  — (See  Anger.) 


RAINBOW. 

Meantime,  refracted  from  yon  eastern  cloud, 

Bestriding  earth,  the  grand  ethereal  bow 
Shoots  up  immense  ; and  every  hue  unfolds,  % 

In  fair  proportion,  running  from  the  red 
To  whei  i the  violet  fades  into  the  sky. 

Thomson’s  ISeasom. 


460 


REASON -RECALli. 


In  pomp  transcendent,  rob’d  in  heavenly  dies, 

Arch’d  the  clear  rainbow  round  the  orient  skies. 

Dr.  Dwight 

Far  up  the  blae  sk},  a fair  rainbow  unroll’d 
Its  soft-tinted  pinions  of  purple  and  gold. 

*T  was  born  in  a moment,  yet,  quick  as  its  birth, 

It  had  stretch’d  to  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  earth ; 

And,  fair  as  an  angel,  it  floated  as  free. 

With  a wing  on  the  earth,  and  a wing  on  the  sea. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Welbi 


REASON.  — (See  Mind.) 


RECALL. 

Something,  since  his  going  forth,  is  thought  of, 

That  his  return  is  now  most  necessary. 

Shakspearjb. 

How  angrily  I taught  my  brow  to  frown. 

When  inward  joy  enforc’d  my  heart  to  srnilt. 

My  penance  is,  to  call  * * * * back.. 

And  ask  remission  for  my  folly  past. 

Shakspeare. 

Fain  would  my  tongue  his  griefs  appease, 

And  give  his  tortur’d  bosom  ease. 

Addison  s Rosamonil 

I did  not  knov/  I lov’d  him  su, 

Until  I bade  him  leave  me ; 

I did  not  know,  when  he  should  go. 

His  absence  thus  would  grieve  me. 

But,  since  he ’s  gone,  1 feel  forlorn, 

I thin'k  all  day  about  him:  — 

I’ll  cancel  all  — I’ll  him  recall. 

For  I ’m  a wretch  without  him. 

J.  T.  Watbon 


RECIPROCITY -RECONCILIATION. 


461 


RECIPROCITY. 

Mutual  h^e,  the  crown  of  all  our  bliss. 

Miltom 

Where  heart  inee;;s  heart,  reciprocally  soft, 

Each  other’s  pillow  to  repose  divine. 

Yotjng. 

Be  thine  the  more  refin’d  delights 
Of  love,  that  banishes  control, 

When  the  fond  heart  with  heart  unites, 

And  soul’s  in  unison  with  soul. 

Cartwright. 

And  canst  thou  not  accord  thy  heart 
In  unison  with  mine  — 

Whose  language  thou  alone  hast  heard, 

Thou  only  canst  divine  ? 

Rufus  Dawks. 

O,  let  us  prize  the  first-blown  bud  of  love ; 

Let  us  love  now,  in  this  our  fairest  youth. 

When  love  can  find  a full  and  fond  return. 

J.  G.  Percival. 

The  all-absorbing  flame, 

Whicl),  kindled  by  another,  grows  the  same. 

Wrapt  in  one  blaze. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 
Earth  nath  not  — Oh ! hath  Heaven  so  sweet 
A charm  as  that,  once  only  known. 

When  first  affection’s  accents  greet 

The  ear  that  drinks  their  thrilling  tone ! 

Ladies^  Magazint, 


RECONCILIATION. 

The  short  passing  anger  but  seena’d  to  awaken 

New  beauties,  like  flowers  that  are  sweetest  when  shaken. 

Moore. 


462 


REFINEMENT-  REFLECTION  - REEKHON. 


Well  do  vanish’d  frowns  enhance 
The  charms  of  every  brighten’d  glance, 
And  dearer  seems  each  dawning  smile, 
For  having  lost  its  light  awhile. 

I would  have  my  ove 
Angry  sometimes,  to  sweeten  o/T  the  rest 
Of  her  behaviour. 


No  cloud 

Of  anger  shall  remain,  but  peace  assur’d, 
And  reconcilement. 


Moobx 


Ben  Jonson. 


Milton. 


REFINEMENT. 

She  to  higher  hopes 

Was  destin’d — in  a finer  mould  was  wrought, 

And  temper’d  with  a purer,  brighter  flame. 

Akenside. 

She ’s  noble,  noble  — one  to  keep 
Embalm’d  for  dreams  of  fever’s  sleep, 

An  eye  for  nature  — taste  refin’d  — 

Perception  swift  — and  balanc’d  mind 
And,  more  than  all,  a gift  of  thought. 

To  such  a spirit-fineness  wrought. 

That  on  my  ear  her  language  fell. 

As  if  each  word  dissolv’d  a spell. 

N P Will  a 


RE  FLECTION.  — (See  Contemplation.) 


REFUSAL.  — (See  Consent. ) 


RELIGION. — (See  Prayer.) 


REMORSE  REPENTANCE. 


463 


REM  JRSE  — REPENTANCE. 

Forgive  mo,  'Valentine  • if  hearty  sorrow 
Be  a sufficient  ransom  for  offence, 

I tender  it  here  ; I do  as  truly  suffer 
As  e’er  1 did  offend. 

Shaksfeare 

Who  by  repentance  is  not  satisfied, 

Is  nor  of  heaven,  nor  earth. 

Shaksfeare. 

Sorrow  for  past  ills  doth  restore  frail  man 
To  his  first  innocence. 

IN  ABB. 

So  carnal  seamen  in  a storm. 

Turn  pious  converts  and  reform. 

Butler’s  Hudibras. 

Repented  all  his  sins,  and  made  a last 
Irrevocable  vow  of  reformation. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

So  do  the  dark  in  soul  expire. 

Or  live  like  scorpions  girt  by  fire ; 

So  writhes  the  mind  remorse  hath  riven. 

Unfit  for  earth,  undoom’d  for  heaven  — 

Darkness  above,  despair  beneath. 

Around  it  flame,  within  it  death  ! 

Byron. 

Revenge  is  lost  in  agony, 

And  wild  remorse  to  rage  succeeds. 

Byron 

High  minds,  of  native  pride  and  force. 

Most  deeply  feel  thy  pangs,  remorse ; 

Fear  for  their  scourge  mean  villains  have  : 

Thou  an  the  torturer  of  the  brave. 

Scott’s  Marmion. 

Remorse  diops  anguish  from  her  burning  eyes. 

Feels  hell’s  eternal  worm,  and,  shuddering,  dies. 

Charles  Spraoub 


464 


RLPEN  r A NCE  REPORT  - RTTMOUR. 


[^angs  more  corrosive:  and  severe, 

More  fierce,  more  poignant  and  intense, 

Than  ever  hostile  sword  or  spear 
Wak’d  in  the  breast  of  innocence. 

Mrs.  Holford’s  Margaret  of  JinjoftA 


REPENTANCE.  — (See  Remorse.j 


REPORT  — RUMOUR 

Then  straight  thro’  all  the  world  ’gar.  fame  to  fly , 

A monster  swifter  none  is  under  sun  ; 

Incr(‘asing,  as  in  waters  we  descry 

The  circles  small,  of  nothing  that  begun, 

Till  of  the  drops,  which  from  the  skies  do  fall. 

The  circles  spread  and  hide  the  waters  all. 

Mirror  for  Magistrate$ 
Rumour’s  a pipe 

Blown  by  surmises,  jealousies,  conjectures  ; 

And  of  so  easy  and  so  plain  a stop. 

That  the  blunt  monster  with  uncounted  heads, 

The  still,  discordant,  wavering  multitude, 

Can  play  upon  it. 

Shakspeark. 

It  must  be  so  ; — for  Thomas  Brown,  Esquire, 

Heard  Blab’.">  wife  tell  the  son  of  Mr.  Smith, 

(Him,  that  was  christen’d  John,  after  his  sire  — 

Men  often  to  transmit  their  names  desire,) — 

That  Higgons  said,  while  he  was  walking  with 
That  charming  maiden  lady  aged  forty, 

’Yclept  Miss  Catchem,  (Higgons  was'her  beau,) 

She  told  him  (confidentially)  that  naughty 
And  prattling  gossip,  Mrs.  Wilkins,  thought  she 
Heard  Polly’s  cousin’s  sister’s  aunt  say  so. 

J.  T W AT90N 


REPROOF -REPUTATION,  &c 


465 


llie  flying  rumours  gather’d  as  they  roll’d; 

Scarce  any  tale  was  sooner  heard  than  told^ 

And  all  %vho  told  it  added  something  new, 

And  all  who  heard  it,  made  enlargement  too ; 
fin  every  ear  it  spread,  on  every  tongue  it  grew. 

Pope’s  Temple  of  Famt 

REPROOF. 

I’hou  turn’st  my  eyes  into  my  very  soul. 

And  there  1 see  such  black  and  grained  spots 
As  will  not  leave  their  lincU 

Shakspeare. 

Forbear  sharp  speeches  to  her : she ’s  a lady 
So  tender  of  rebukes,  that  words  are  strokes, 

And  strokes,  death  to  her. 

Shakspeare 

Prythee,  forgive  me ; 

I did  but  chide  in  jest ; the  best  loves  use  it 
Sometimes  ; it  sets  an  edge  upon  affection. 

Middleton 

Reprove  not  in  their  wrath  incensed  men ; 

Good  counsel  comes  clean  out  of  season  then; 

But  when  their  fury  is  appeas’d  and  past, 

They  will  conceive  their  faults,  and  mend  at  last. 

Randolph, 


REPUTATION.  — (See  Chahacter.} 
_i 

RESOLUTION.  — (See  Determination.! 


RETIREMENT.  — (See  HERMiT.f 


REWARD. 

Thou  prun’st  a rotten  tree. 
That  cannot  so  much  as  a blossom  yield. 
In  lieu  of  all  thy  pains  and  nusbandry. 


Skakspeark. 


466 


REVKNGE-  VENGEANCE. 


Thtis  unlain.'nled  pass  tlte  proiul  away, 

The  gaze  of  fools,  the  pageant  of  a day : 

So  perish  all  whose  breast  ne’er  learn’d  to  glow 

For  others’  ffood,  or  melt  at  others’  wo. 

" POPK. 

The  world’s  bitst  comfort  was,  his  doom  was  past  — 

Die  when  he  might,  he  must  be  damn’d  at  last. 

COWPFM. 

So  fares  the  follower  of  the  Muses’  train  ; 

He  toils  to  starve,  and  only  lives  in  death  ; 

We  slight  him  till  our  patronage  is  vain. 

Then  round  his  skeleton  a garland  wreathe. 

Rejected  AddresstB, 

Do  thou  the  good  thy  thoughts  oft  meditate, 

And  thou  shalt  feel  the  good  man’s  peace  within. 

And  after  death  his  wreath  of  glory  win. 

Carlos  W ilco:x. 


REVENGE  — VENGEANCE. 


Oh.  that  the  slave  had  forty  thousand  lives ! 

One  is  too  poor,  too  weak  for  my  revenge ! 

' Shakspearb. 


I am  disgrac’d,  impeach’d,  and  baffled  here  ; 
Pierc’d  to  the  soul  with  slander’s  venom’d  spear ; 
The  which  no  balm  can  cure  but  Ins  heart’s  blood, 
Which  breath’d  this  poison. 


Sxi  ATTCiPF  A RE 


The  fairest  action  of  our  human  life 
Is  scorning  to  revenge  an  injury  , 

For  who  forgives  without  a further  strife. 

His  adversary’s  heart  to  him  doth  tie : 

And  ’tis  a finer  compiest,  truly  said. 

To  win  the  heart,  than  overthrow  the  head. 

I,ADV  E.  Cariw. 

Revenge,  at  first  though  sweet. 

Bitter  ere  long,  back  on  itself  recoils. 

Milton’s  Puradise  Laat. 


RIDICULE -SHAME. 


467 


It  wounds,  indeed, 

To  bear  affronts  too  great  to  be  forgiven, 

And  not  have  power  to  punish. 

Dryden. 

Patience  ! — my  soul  disdains  its  stoic  maxim, 

4'he  coward’s  virtue,  and  the  knave’s  disguise: 

O vengeance  ! take  me  all  — I’m  wholly  thine  ! 

These  the  sole  accents  from  his  tongue  that  fell, 

But  volumes  lurk’d  below  that  fierce  farewell. 

Byron’s  Island* 

There  are  things 

Which  make  revenge  a virtue  by  reflection. 

And  not  an  impulse  of  mere  anger ; though 
The  law  sleeps,  justice  wakes,  and  injur’d  souls 
Oft  do  a public  right  with  private  wrong. 

Byron’s  Marino  Faliero. 
No  ! When  the  battle  rages  dire. 

And  the  rous’d  soul  is  ail  on  fire, 

Think’st  thou  a noble  heart  can  stay. 

Hate’s  rancorous  impulse  to  obey? 

Mrs.  Holford’s  Margaret  of  Anjou. 
Revenge  we  find 

The  abject  pleasure  of  an  abject  mind. 

Gifford’s  Juvenal 
Whom  vengeance  track’d  so  long. 

Feeding  its  torch  with  the  thought  of  wrong. 

J.  G.  Whither. 


RIDICULE  — SHAME. 

For  often  vice,  provok’d  to  shame, 

Borrows  the  colour  of  a virtuous  deed  * 

Thus  libertines  are  chaste,  and  misers  good, 

A coward  valiant,  and  a priest  sincere, 

Sewell’s  Sir  Walter  Raleigk 


468 


RKJflT-RTVKK^;. 


1 can  bear  scorpions’  stings,  tread  fields  ol  tire ; 

In  frozen  gulfs  of  cold  eternal  lie  ; 

Be  toss’d  aloft  through  tracts  of  endless  void  — 

But  cannot  live  in  shame. 

Joanna  Bailli*. 

For  still  the  world  prevail’d,  and  its  dread  laugh, 

Which  scarce  the  firm  philosopher  can  scorn. 

Thomson’s  Seasons 


RIGHT.  — (See  Injustice.) 


RIVERS. 


See  the  rivers  — how  they  run 

Through  woods  and  meads,  in  shade  and  sun,  ^ 

Sometimes  swift,  sometimes  slow, 

Wave  succeeding  wave,  they  go 
A various  journey  to  the  deep, 

Like  human  life,  to  endless  sleepc 

Dyer’s  Gronger  Hill 

O!  I have  thought,  — and,  thinking,  sigh’d, — 
hlow  like  to  thee,  thou  restless  tide, 

May  be  the  lot,  the  life  of  him 
Who  roams  along  thy  water’s  brim  ! 

Through  what  alternate  shades  of  woe 
And  flowers  of  joy,  my  path  may  go  ! 

How  many  an  humble,  still  retreat 
May  rise  to  court  my  weary  feet, 

While,  still  pursuing,  still  unblest, 

I wander  on,  nor  dare  to  rest ! 

Moorje 


— The  channels  worn 
By  ever-flowing  streams  — arteries  of  earth. 

That,  widely  branching,  circulate  its  blood : 

Whose  ever-throbbing  pulses  are  the  tides. 

Thomas  Ward. 


ROGUES -RURAL  SCENf^S,  <Slc. 


469 


But  thcu,  urichang’d  from  year  to  year, 

Grayly  shall  play  and  glitter  here ; 

Amid  young  flowers  and  tender  grass, 

Thine  endless  infancy  shall  pass ; 

And,  singing  down  thy  narrow  glen, 

Shall  mock  the  fading  race  of  men. 

W.  C.  Bryamt. 

Who  may  trace  the  ways  that  ye  have  taken, 

Ye  streams  and  drops  ? who  separate  ye  all, 

And  find  the  many  places  ye ’ve  forsaken. 

To  come  and  rush  together  down  the  fall  ? 

Miss  Hannah  F.  Gouij). 

So  blue  yon  winding  river  flows, 

It  seems  an  outlet  from  the  sky. 

Where,  waiting  till  the  west  wind  blows. 

The  freighted  clouds  at  anchor  lie. 

H.  W.  Longfellow 


ROGUES.  — (See  Dishonesty.) 


ROMANCE.  — (See  Novels.) 


ROYALTY.  — (See  Kings.) 


RUDENESS.  — (See  Etiquette.) 


RUIN.  — (See  Destruction.) 


RUMOUR.  — (See  Report.) 


RURAL  SCENES  — TOWN  AND  COUNTRY. 

Here  laden  carts  with  thundering  wagons  meet, 

Wheels  clash  with  wheels,  and  bar  the  narrow  street 

Gay’s  Trivia. 


470 


RURAL  SCENES  &c. 


At  eve  the  ploughman  leaves  the  task  of  clay 
And,  trudging  homeward,  whistles  on  the  way  : 

And  the  big-udder’d  cows  with  patience  stand. 

And  wait  the  slrokings  of  the  damsel’s  hand. 

Gay’s  Jiural  Sport* 

See  yon  gay  goldfinch  hop  from  spray  to  spray. 

Who  sings  a farewell  to  the  parting  day ; 

At  Aarge  he  flies,  o’er  hill,  and  dale  and  down : 

Is  not  each  bush,  each  spreading  tree  his  own  ? 

And  canst  thou  think  he’ll  quit  his  native  brier 
For  the  bright  cage  o’erarch’d  with  golden  wire  ? 

Gay’s  Dione 

Here,  too,  dwells  simple  truth  ; plain  innocence  ; 

Unsullied  beauty  ; sound,  unbroken  youth. 

Patient  of  labour,  with  a little  pleas’d  ; 

Health  ever  blooming  ; unambitious  toil ; 

' Calm  contemplation,  and  poetic  ease, 

Thomson’s  Seasons 

Sweet  was  the  sound,  when  oft,  at  evening  s close 
Up  yonder  hill  the  village  murmur  rose  ; 

There  as  I pass’d  with  careless  steps  and  slow. 

The  mingling  notes  came  soften’d  from  below: 

The  swain  responsive  to  the  milkmaid  sung ; 

The  sober  herd  that  low’d  to  meet  their  young ; 

The  noisy  geese  that  gabbled  o’er  the  pool ; 

The  playful  children,  just  let  loose  from  school ; 

The  watch-dog’s  voice,  that  bay’d  the  whispering  wind, 
And  the  loud  laugh  that  spoke  the  vacant  mind : — 

These  all  in  sweet  confusion  sought  the  shade. 

And  fill’d  each  pause  the  nightingale  had  made. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  Village 

Yellow  sheaves  from  rich  Ceres  the  cottage  had  crown’d. 
Green  rushes  were  screw’d  on  the  floor ; 

The  casement’s  sweet  woodbine  crept  wantonly  round. 
And  deck’d  the  sod  seats  at  the  door. 


CUNMNOHAH, 


ISABBATH 


4 


God  made  the  country  md  man  made  the  town. 

CowrER’s  Taiiz. 

Adieu,  the  city’s  ceaseless  hum, 

The  hiunts  of  sensual  life  adieu! 

Green  fields,  and  silent  glens  ! vve  come 
To  spend  this  bright  spring  day  with  you  ! 

J.  Aldrich. 

O i how  canst  thou  renounce  the  boundless  store 
Of  charms  whicn  nature  to  her  votary  yields  ‘i 
The  warb.ing  woodland,  the  resounding  shore, 

The  pomp  of  groves,  and  garniture  of  fields  ? 

Beattie’s  Minnird, 

Anon,  to  change  the  homely  scene, 

Lest  it  pail  while  too  serene. 

To  the  gay  city  we  remove, 

Where  other  things  there  are  to  love, 

And,  grac’d  by  novelty,-  we  find 
The  city’s  concourse  to  our  mind. 

From  the  Spanish, 

The  cold,  heartless  city,  with  its  forms 
And  dull  routine  ; its  artificial  manners, 

And  arbitrary  rules ; its  cheerless  pleasures, 

And  mirthless  masquing. 

J.  N.  Barkesl 


SABBATH. 

How  still  the  morning  of  the  hallow’d  day  ! 

Mute  .s  the  voice  of  rural  labour;  hush’d 
The  ploughboy’s  \vhistle,  and  the  milkmaid’s  song. 
The  scythe  lies  glittering  in  the  dewy  wreath 
Of  tedded  grass,  mingled  with  faded  flowers, 

That  yesternoon  bloom’d  waving  in  the  breeze 
The  faintest  sound  attracts  the  ear  — the  hum 
Of  early  bee  — the  trickling  of  the  dew  — 

The  distant  bleating  midway  up  the  hill. 

Calmness  seems  thron’d  on  yon  unmoving  hill. 


Grahamf 


472 


SADNESS  - SAFETY  - SA II4NG. 


With  dove-like  wii»gs  peace  o’er  yon  village  orood®  i — 
The  dlzzing  rnill-vvheel  rests;  the  anvil’s  din 
Has  ceas’d  — all,  all  around  is  quietness. 

Grahamb 

Hail,  Sibbath  ! thee  1 hail,  the  poor  man’s  day 
On  other  days  the  man  of  toil  is  doom’d 
To  eat  h:s  joyless  bread,  lonely  — the  ground 
Botn  seal  and  board  — screen'd  from  the  winter’s  cold 
And  summer’s  heat,  by  neighbouring  hedge  or  tree; 

But  on  this  day,  embosom’d  in  his  home. 

He  shares  the  frugal  meal  with  those  he  loves 

Gkahamk. 


SADNESS.  — (See  Care.* 


SAFETY. 

From  a safe  port  ’tis  easy  to  give  counsel. 

Shakspeare. 

But  when  men  think  they  most  in  safety  stand, 

The  greatest  peril  often  is  at  hand. 

Drayton. 

What  though  the  sea  be  calm  ? Trust  to  the  shore ; 

Ships  have  been  drown’d,  where  late  they  danc’d  before. 

Herricr. 

Happy  were  men,  if  they  but  understood 
There  is  no  safety  but  in  doing  good. 

FoUMAiM 


SAILING-SHIP. 

You  might  have  seen  the  frothy  billows  fry 
Under  the  ship,  as.thorough  them  she  went, 

I'hat  seem’d  the  waves  were  unto  ivory, 

Ur  ivory  unto  the  waves  were  sent. 

Spenser's  Fairy  Quern 


SAILOR. 


473 


So  ships  in  writer  seas  now  sliding  sink 
Adovvn  the  sleepy  wave,  then  toss’d  on  high 
Ride  on  the  billows,  and  defy  the  storm. 

Somermle’s  Chane 
Behold  the  ihreaden  sails, 

Borne  with  the  invisible  and  creeping  wind, 

Draw  the  huge  bottoms  through  the  furrow’d  sea, 
Breasting  the  lofty  surge. 

Shakspeaks. 

Fail  laughs  the  morn,  and  soft  the  zephyr  blows, 

While,  proudly  riding  o’er  the  azure  realm, 

In  gallant  trim  the  gilded  vessel  goes.  * 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 

The  sails  were  fill’d,  and  fair  the  light  winds  blew. 

As  glad  to  bear  him  from  his  native  home ; 

And  fast  the  white  rocks  faded  from  his  view. 

And  soon  were  lost  in  circumambient  foam. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 
She  walks  the  waters  like  a thing  of  life. 

And  seems  to  dare  the  elements  to  strife. 

Byron’s  Corsair, 

The  cloven  billow  flash’d  from  off  her  prow. 

In  furrows  form’d  by  that  majestic  plough. 

Byron’s  Island 

She  comes  majestic  with  her  swelling  sails. 

The  gallant  bark  ; along  her  watery  way 
Homeward  she  drives  before  the  favouring  gales; 

Now  flirting  at  their  length  the  streamers  play, 

And  now  they  ripple  with  the  ruffling  breeze. 

Southey. 


SAILOR. 

O’er  the  dad  waters  of  the  dark  blue  sea. 

Our  thoughts  as  boundless,  and  our  souls  as  free, 

Far  as  the  breeze  can  bear,  the  billows  foam. 

Survey  our  empire,  and  behold  our  home  ! 

Byron’s  Corsair 


474 


Satiety-  surfeit. 


Long  have  they  voyag’d  o’er  the  distant  seaa ; 

And  what  a heart-delight  they  feel  at  last  — 

So  many  toils,  so  many  dangers  past  — 

To  view  the  port  desir’d,  he  only  knows 
Who  on  the  stormy  deep  for  many  a day 
Hath  toss’d,  aweary  of  his  ocean  way, 

And  watch’d  all-anxious  every  wind  that  blows 

SoUTHET 

I love  the  sailor ; — his  eventful  life  — 

His  generous  spirit  — his  contempt  of  danger  — 

His  firmness  in  the  gale,  the  wreck,  and  strife ; — 

And,  though  a wild  and  reckless  ocean-ranger, 

Grod  grant  he  make  that  port,  when  life  is  o’er, 

Where  storms  are  hush’d,  and  billows  break  no  more  ! 

Rev.  Walter  Coltow 


SATIETY  — SURFEIT. 

/ 

As  surfeit  is  the  father  of  much  fast, 

So  every  scope,  by  the  immoderate  use, 

Turns  to  restraint. 

Shakspearb 

They  surfeited  with  honey ; and  began 
To  loathe  the  taste  of  sweetness,  whereof  little 
More  than  a little  is  by  much  too  much. 

Shakspearb 

Childe  Harold  bask’d  him  in  the  noontide  sun, 

Disporting  there  like  any  other  fly; 

Nor  deem’d,  before  his  little  day  was  done. 

One  blast  might  chill  him  into  misery. 

But  long  ere  scarce  a third  of  his  pass’d  by. 

Worse  than  adversity  the  Childe  befel: 

He  felt  the  fulness  of  satiety. 


Byron’s  Childe  Harold 


SATIRE  - SAVAGE  - SCANDAL. 


475 


SATIRE. 

t *m  one  whose  whip  of  steel  can  with  a lash 
Impr  nt  the  characters  of  shame  so  deep, 

Even  in  the  brazen  forehead  of  proud  sin, 

That  not  eternity  shall  wear  it  out. 

Instructive  satire  ! true  to  virtue’s  cause  ! 

Thou  shining  supplement  of  public  laws  ! 

If  satire  charms,  strike  faults,  but  spare  the  man ; 

’T  is  dull  to  be  as  witty  as  you  can. 

Satire  recoils  whenever  charg’d  too  high ; 

Round  your  own  fame  the  fatal  splinters  fly. 

As  the  soft  plume  gives  swiftness  to  the  dart. 
Good-breeding  sends  the  satire  to  the  heart. 

Youno 

Curs’d  be  the  verse,  how  well  soe’er  it  flow. 

That  tends  to  make  one  worthy  man  my  foe. 

Give  virtue  scandal,  innocence  a fear. 

Or  from  the  soft-eyed  virgin  steal  a tear. 

Pope 

When  satire  flies  abroad  on  falsehood’s  wing. 

Short  is  her  life,  and  impotent  her  sting ; 

But  when  to  truth  allied,  the  wound  she  gives 
Sinks  deep,  and  to  remoter  ages  lives. 

Churchill 

Prepare  for  rhyme  — I’ll  publish,  right  or  wrong; 

Fools  are  my  theme,  let  satire  be  my  song 

Byron’s  English  Bards^ 


SAVAGE. — (See  Indian.) 


Randolph 


Youno 


SCANDAL.  — (See  Gossip. » 


SCENERY  - SCEP  riClSIVI  - UNBELIEF. 


SCENERY. 

The  naughtiest  breast  its  wish  might  bound, 

Through  life  to  dwell  delignted  here; 

Nor  could  on  earth  a spot  be  found, 

To  Nature  and  to  me  so  dear. 

Byron’s  Childt  Harold. 
in  the  wild  pomp  of  mountain  majesty.  * 

Byron’s  Childt  Harold, 
Woods  of  palm. 

And  orange  groves,  and  fields  of  balm, 

Fitz-green  Halleck. 
’T  is  distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view. 

And  clothes  the  mountain  in  its  azure  hue. 

Campbfll 

Amid  the  ancient  forests  of  a land, 

Wild,  gloomy,  vast,  magnificently  grand. 

W.  H.  Burleigh 

How  softly  that  green  bank  sloped  down  from  the  hill 
To  the  spot  where  the  fountain  grew  suddenly  still! 

How  cool  was  the  shadow  the  long  branches  gave. 

As  they  hung  from  the  willow,  and  dipp’d  in  the  wave  ! 
And  then  each  pale  lily,  that  slept  in  the  stream. 

Rose  and  fell  with  a wave,  as  if  stirr’d  by  a dream. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Wllby 


SCEPTICISM  — UNBELIEF. 

A foe  to  God  was  ne’er  true  friend  to  man. 

Young’s  Night  ThoughU. 
Bm  you  are  learn’d  ; in  volumes  deep  you  sit ; . . . 

Your  learning,  like  the  lunar  beam,  afibrds 
Light,  but  not  heat ; it  leaves  you  undevout 
Frozen  at  neart,  while  speculation  shines. 

Young’s  ISight  Thoughts. 


SCHOOL-TEACHER. 


477 


A Christian  is  the  highest  style  of  man ; 

And  is  there  who  the  blessed  cross  wipes  ofT 
As  a foul  blot  from  his  dishonour’d  brow  ? — 

If  angels  tremble,  ’t  is  at  such  a sight. 

Young’s  Night  Jlwugt  fs. 
Hast  never  seen  the  death-bed  of  th’  unbeliever?  — 

’T  was  anguish,  terror,  darkness  without  bow  : 

But  O,  it  had  a most  convincing  tongue, 

A potent  oratory,  that  secur’d 
Most  mute  attention. 

Pollok’s  Course  of  Time. 
A fugitive  from  heaven  and  prayer. 

He  mock’d  at  all  religious  fear, 

Deep-scienc’d  in  the  mazy  lore 
Of  mad  Philosophy. 

From  Horace 


SCHOOL-TEACHER. 

Beside  yon  straggling  fence,  that  skirts  the  way, 

With  blossom’d  furze,  unprofitably  gay. 

There,  in  his  noisy  mansion,  skill’d  to  rule. 

The  village  master  taught  his  little  school. 

Goldsmith’s  Deserted  Viliagt- 
A man  severe  he  was,  and  stern  to  view  * 

I knew  him  well,  and  every  truant  knew. 

Well  had  the  boding  tremblers  [earn’d  to  trace 
The  day’s  disasters  in  his  morning  face ; 

Full  well  they  laugh’d,  with  counterfeited  glee. 

At  all  his  jokes,  for  many  a joke  had  he  ; 

Full  well  the  busy  whisper,  circling^ round, 

Convey’d  the  dismal  tidings  when  he  frown’d  ; 

Yet  he  was  kind, — or,  if  severe  in  aught, 

The  love  ne  bore  to  learning  was  a fault. 

Goldsmith’^  Destrtea  ^ 


478 


SCIENCE -SENSITIVENESS,  ifeo. 


Delightful  task,  to  rear  the  tender  thought, 

To  teach  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot, 

To  pour  the  fresh  instruction  o’er  the  mind. 

To  breathe  the  enlivening  spirit,  and  to  fix 
'rhe  generous  purpose  in  the  glowing  breast ! 

Thomson’s  Seastni^i 

Oh  ! ye  who  teach  the  ingenious  youth  of  nations, 
Holland,  France,  England,  Germany,  or  Spain, 

I pray  ye,  flog  them  upon  all  occasions  ; 

it  mends  their  morals  — never  mind  the  pain. 

Bvron’s  Don  Jmm, 


SCIENCE. — (See  Education.) 


SEA.  — (See  Ocean.) 


SEASONS.  — (See  Autumn.) 


SECRESY.  — (See  Concealment.) 


SELF.  — (See  Egotism.) 


SENSES.  — (See  Instinct.) 


SENSIBILITY.  — (See  Feeling.! 


SENSITIVENESS. 

Where  glow  exalted  sense  and  taste  refin’d. 

There  keener  anguish  rankles  in  the  mind ; 

There  feeling  is  difl’us’d  through  every  part. 

Thrills  in  each  nerve,  and  lives  in  all  the  heart 

• Hannah  Mora 


SEPARATION -SERVir.ITY.  &-c. 


479 


Dearly  bought,  the  hidden  treasure 
Finer  feelings  can  bestow  ! 
r.'hords  that  vibrate  sweetest  pleasure, 

'rhriil  the  deepest  notes  of  woe. 

Burnr. 

Upon  my  lute  there  is  one  string 

Broken  ; — the  chords  were  drawn  too  fast ; 

My  heart  is  like  that  string  — it  tried 
Too  much,  and  snapt  in  twain  at  last. 


SEPARATION.  — (See  Absencjs.) 


SERVILITY  — SLAVERY. 

And  crook  the  pregnant  hinges  of  the  knee, 

Where  thrift  may  follow  fawning. 

Shakspeaiie. 

Easier  were  it 

To  hurl  the  rooted  mountain  from  its  base, 

Than  force  the  yoke  of  slavery  upon  men 
Determin’d  to  be  free. 

Southey. 

I would  not  imitate  the  petty  thought, 

Nor  coin  my  self-love  to  so  base  a vice. 

For  all  the  glory  your  conversion  brought, 

Since  gold  alone  should  not  have  been  its  price. 

Byrow. 

And  thus  they  plod  in  sluggish  misery, 

Rotting  from  sire  to  son,  and  age  to  age, 

Proud  of  their  trampled  nature,  and  so  die. 

Bequeathing  their  hereditary  rage 
To  a new  race  of  unborn  slaves. 

Byron’s  Childe  Haiold^ 


SHAME.  — (See  Ridicule.) 


SHIP.  — (See  Sailing.) 


480 


SILENCE  - SIMPLICITY. 


S I L E N C E. 

I do  know  of  these. 

That  therefore  only  are  reputed  wise, 

For  saying  notliing. 

SuAKSPRiai 

The  silence  often  of  pure  innocence 
Persuades,  when  speaking  fails. 

ShAKSI'EAKK, 

Si'ence  ! coeval  with  eternity! 

'rhou  wert  ere  nature’s  self  began, to  be  ; 

Thine  was  the  sway  ere  heaven  was  fonn’d  or  earth ; 

Ere  fruitful  thought  conceiv’d  creation’s  birth. 

Pops. 

The  tongue  mov’d  gently  first,  and  speech  was  low, 

Till  wrangling  science  taught  it  noise  and  show, 

And  wicked  wit  arose,  \ hy  most  abusive  foe. 

Popi, 

There  is  a silence  which  hath  been  no  sound ; 

There  is  a silence  which  no  sound  may  be  — 
in  the  cold  grave. 

Thomas  Hood. 

bhe  feels  her  inmost  soul  within  her  stir 

With  thoughts  too  wild  and  passionate  to  speak; 

Yet  her  full  heart  — its  own  interpreter  — 

Translates  itself  in  silence  on  her  cheek. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  \Velby. 
’1  was  night : All  nature,  far  and  wide, 

Was  wrapt  in  silent,  deep  repose. 

And  naught  was  heard  on  either  side. 

Their  secret  purpose  to  disclose. 

J.  T.  Watson. 


siMPLierrY 


Fail  nature’s  sweet  simplicity, 
W ith  eh^gance  refin’d. 


Lord  Lyttleton 


.<LN  - SINCERITY,  &c. 


481 


Beatitifiai  <5ne  1 Lhy  look  and  tone 
Of  witchery  are  nature’s  own  — 

Like  light  from  heaven,  thy  magic  giance  — 

Thy  voice,  the  harp’s  wild  utterance ; 

When  touch’d  at  eve  by  some  spirit’s  hand, 
ft  breathes  the  notes  of  the  better  lan-l. 

S.  P.  Chase 

And  all  her  looks  a calm  disclose 
Of  innocence  and  truth. 


Thy  mild  looks  are  all  eloquent. 

Thy  bright  ones  free  and  glad , 

Like  g ances  from  a Pleiad  sent, 

I’hy  sad  ones  sweetly  sad. 

Robert  Morhhi 


SIN — (See  Guilt.) 


SINCERITY.  — (See  Falsehood.) 


SINGING.  — (See  Music.) 


SLANDER.  — (See  Detraction.) 


SLAVERY.  — (See  Servility.) 


SLIGHT.  — (See  Neglect.) 


SLEEP. — (See  Dream.) 


SMILE. — (See  Cheerfulness.) 


31 


SMOKING.— (See  Cigar.) 


482 


SOCIETY-S'I’ARI^  Alo. 


S OC  1 T Y.  - - (See  Associates.) 


SOLITUDE.  — (See  Hermit.) 


SONG.  — (See  Music. ) 


SOPHISTRY.  — (See  Argcmeht.) 


SORROW.  — (See  Misery.) 


SOUL.  — (See  Immortality.) 


SPLENDOUR. 

What  pBremptory,  eagle-sighted  eye 
Dares  look  upon  the  heaven  of  her  brow, 

That  is  not  blinded  by  her  majesty  ? 

bHAKSf»FA6Ufc 

To  splendour  only  do  vve  live  ? 

Must  pomp  alone  our  thoughts  employ  ? 

All,  all  that  pomp  and  splendowr  give, 

Is  dearly  bought  with  love  and  joy. 

Cartwright. 

Can  wealth  give  happiness  ? look  round  and  see, 

What  gay  distress ! what  splendid  misery  ! 
f envy  none  their  pageantry  and  show, 

1 envy  none  the  gilding  of  their  woe. 

V0T.«88 

SPRING.  — (See  Autumn  ) 


SPORTS.— (See  Fjshiwg  ) 


STARS.  — (See  Moon.) 


STAl’LSM  AN - SUCCESS,  Sue. 


483 


STATESMAN. 


^ fjtate^^man,  that  can  side  with  every  faction, 

And  yet  most  subtly  can  entwist  himself, 

When  he  hath  wrought  the  business  up  to  danger. 

Shiri  EV. 

Forbear,  you  things 
Tliat  stand  upon  the  pinnacles  of  state. 

To  boast  your  slippery  height ; when  you  do  fall. 

You  dash  yourselves  in  pieces,  ne’er  to  rise. 

Ben  Jonson. 

Thus  the  court  wheel  goes  round,  like  fortune’s  ball ; 

One  statesman  rising  on  another’s  fall. 

, R.  Brome. 


With  grave 

Aspect  he  rose,  and  in  his  rising  sfM*m’d 
A pillar  of  state : deep  on  his  front  engraven 
Deliberation  sat,  and  public  care. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Lost 


ST  it  TION.  — (See  Ancestry.) 


STORM.  — (See  Clouds.) 


STUBBORNNESS.  — (See  Obst^jiacv.) 


STALE.  — (See  Criticism  ) 


SUCCESS 

£iad  I miscarried,  I had  been  a villain ; 
For  men  judge  actions  always  by  events 
But  when  we  manage  by  a just  foresight, 
Success  is  prudence,  and  possession  nght. 


Hiogons. 


SUICIDE. 


’T  IS  not  in  rr*ortals  to  coinmririf]  sncc(\ss ; 

But  we  ’ll  do  more,  Seinpronius — we  'll  deserve  rt^ 

Addison’s  (aUi 

It  IS  success  that  colours  all  in  ; 

Success  makes  foots  admir’d,  makes  vilkains  bouf\sl. 

All  the  proud  virtue  of  this  vaunting  world 
Pawns  on  success  and  power,  howe’er  accjuir’d. 

T HOMSOM 


Applause 

Waits  on  success  ; the  fickle  multitude, 

Like  llie  light  straw  that  floats  along  the  stream, 

Glide  with  the  current  still,  and  follow  fortune. 

Franklin, 

But  who  shall  tax  successful  villany, 

Or  call  the  rising  traitor  to  account  ? 

Havardi 


SUICIDE. 

The  dread  of  something  after  death. 

That  undiscover’d  country,  from  whose  bourn 
No  traveller  returns,  puzzles  the  will, 

And  makes  us  rather  bear  the  ills  we  have, 

Than  fly  to  others,  that  we  know  not  of. 

Shakspkare. 

Oh  ! that  this  too,  too  solid  flesh  would  melt, 

Thaw,  and  dissolve  itself  into  a dew ! 

Ch  that  the  Everlasting  had  not  set 
His  canon  ’gainst  self-slaughter ! 

ShAKSPEAve, 

To  run  away 

From  this  wmrld’s  ills,  that,  at  the  very  worst, 

Will  soon  blow  o’er,  thinking  to  mend  ourselves 
By  boldly  venturing  on  a wmrld  unknown. 

And  plunging  headlong  in  the  dark  ! — ’t  is  mad  ! 

No  frenzy  half  so  desperate  as  this. 


Blair’®  Hrave. 


SUMMER -SUN,  &>e. 


485 


Fear,  gniit,  despair,  and  moon-struck  frenzy,  rusii 
On  voluntary  death  ; the  wise,  the  brave, 

When  the  fierce  storms  of  fortune  round  ’em  roar. 

Combat  tlie  billows  with  redoubled  force, 

Fentom. 

To  cut  his  throat  a brave  man  scorns ; 

So,  instead  of  his  throat,  he  cuts  — his  corns, 

Butler’s  Hudibrix^. 

He  with  delirious  laugh  the  dagger  hurl’d. 

And  burst  the  ties  that  bound  him  to  this  world, 

Campbell’s  Pleasures  oj  Hopt 
, { mean  not 

That  poor-sou  I’d  piece  of  heroism,  self-slaughter^ 

Oh  no^  the  miserablest  day  we  live. 

There  s many  a better  thing  to  do  than  die ! 

G.  DAiafiir 


SUMMER.  — {See  Autumn.) 


SUN.  — (See  Moon.) 


SUPERIORITY.  — (See  E^juality.) 


SUPERSTITION.  — (See  Ghost.) 


SURFEIT.  — (See  Satiety.) 


SURPRISE.  — (See  Astonishment.) 


SUSPENSE.  — (See  Expectation.) 


SUSPICION.  — (See  Jealousy.) 


SYCOPHANT  (See  Flattery. I 


486 


SYMPATHY-.  lA.s’IK.  Alo. 


SYMPATHY. 

Kintlnesi  by  secret  S3nnpathv  is  tied, 

For  noble  souls  in  nature  are  allied. 

Dryd«w. 

Shame  on  those  breasts  of  stone,  that  cannot  melt 
hi  soft  adoption  of  another’s  sorrow  ! 

Aaron  Hill. 

Oh  ! ask  not,  hope  thou  not  too  much 
Of  sympathy  below : 

Few  ar/j  the  hearts  whence  one  same  touch 
Bids  the  sweet  iountain  flow. 

Mrs.  Hemans». 

There’s  nought  in  this  bad  world  like  sympathy; 

’"J"  is  so  becoming  to  the  soul  and  face  — 

Sets  to  soft  music  the  harmonious  sigh. 

And  robes  sweet  friendship  in  a Brussels  lace. 

Byron’s  Don  Jnmi 

I know  thee  not  — and  yet  our  spirits  seem 
Together  link’d  by  sympathy  and  love, 

And,  like  the  mingled  waters  of  a stream. 

Our  thoughts  and  fancies  all  united  rove. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Welsy 
I know  thee  not  — I never  heard  thy  voice  , 

Yet,  could  I choose  a friend  from  ail  mankind, 
rhy  spirit  high  should  be  my  spirit’s  clioice. 

Thy  heait  should  guide  heart,  thy  mind,  my  minCi. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Welsi 


TASTE,  — (See  Style.) 


T E A C H E R.  — (See  School.) 


1’  E A RS  - (See  Grtef.j 


TEMPER-TEMPERANCE,  &C. 


487 


T E M P E R . — (See  Anqee.) 


TEMPERANCE.  — (See  Drinking.) 


I'EMPTATION. 


What  war  so  cruel,  or  what  siege  so  sore. 

As  that  which  strong  temptation  doth  apply 
Against  the  fort  of  reason  evermore, 

To  bring  the  soul  into  captivity  ? 

Spenser’s  Fairy  Qutm 
Think  not  that  fear  is  sacred  to  the  storm  ; 

Stand  on  thy  guard  against  the  smiles  of  fate. 

[s  Heaven  tremendous  in  its  frown  ? Most  sure  ; 

And  in  its  favour  formidable  too. 

Its  favours  here  are  trials,  not  rewards. 

Young’s  Aight  Th  usrhts 
But  Satan  now  is  wiser  than  of  yore. 

And  tempts  by  making  rich,  not  making  poor. 

Pope 


There  are  crimes, 

Made  venial  by  the  occasion,  and  temptations, 

Which  Nature  cannot  master  or  forbear. 

Byron 

It  reign’d  in  Eden  in  that  heavy  hour 

When  the  arch  tempter  sought  our  mother’s  bower, 

In  thrilling  charms  her  yielding  heart  assail’d, 

And  e'en  o’er  dread  Jehovah’s  word  prevail’d. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity 
There  the  fair  tree  in  fatal  beauty  grew, 

And  hung  its  mystic  apples  to  the  view. 

Sprague’s  Curiosity 


THEATRE.  — (See  Aotor.j 


THIEVES.  — (See  Dishonesty.) 


488 


TUIRST  - THOUGHT  - TIME. 


THIRST. 

That  pantiLg  thirst,  which  scorches  in  the  breath 
Of  those  that  die  the  soldier’s  fiery  death, 

In  vain  impels  the  burning  mouth  to  crave 
One  drop — the  last — to  cool  it  for  the  grave. 

Byron’s  Larck 

The  incessant  fever  of  that  arid  thirst 
Which  welcomes,  as  a well,  the  clouds  that  burst 
Above  their  naked  heads,  and  feels  delight 
In  the  cold  drenchings  of  the  stormy  night ; 

And  from  the  outspread  canvas  gladly  wrings 
A drop,  to  moisten  life’s  all-gasping  springs. 

Byron’s  Mand> 

A small  glass,  and  thirsty  ! be  sure  never  ask  it ; 

Man  might  as  well  serve  up  his  soup  in  a basket. 

Leigh  Hunt — From  the  Italian, 


THOUGHT.  — (See  Mind.) 


TIME. 

Time  doth  transfix  the  flourish  set  on  youth. 

And  delves  the  parallels  in  beauty’s  brow ; 

Feeds  on  the  rarities  of  nature’s  truth. 

And  nothing  stands  but  for  his  scythe  to  mow. 

Shaksve/  \s. 

The  greatest  schemes  that  human  wit  cp.n  forge, 

Or  bold  ambition  dares  to  put  in  practice. 

Depend  upon  our  husbanding  a moment. 

Hows 

Think  we,  or  think  we  not,  Time  hurries  on 
v\hih  a resistless,  unremitting  stream  ; 

Vet  treads  more  soft  than  e’er  did  midnight  thief. 

That  slides  his  hand  under  the  miser’s  pillow, 

And  carries  off  his  prize. 


Iji.air’s  Gr«istf 


TIME. 


489 


The  bell  strikes  one.  We  take  no  note  of  time 
But  from  its  loss.  To  give  it  then  a tongue, 

Is  wise  in  man.  As  if  an  angel  spoke, 

I feel  the  solemn  sound.  If  heard  aright. 

It  is  the  knell  of  my  departing  hours  : 

Where  are  they  ? With  the  years  beyond  the  flood. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts. 
Oh  Time!  thou  beautifier  of  the  dead, — 

Adorner  of  the  ruin — comforter 
And  only  healer  when  the  heart  hath  bled  — 

Time  1 the  corrector  when  our  judgments  err, 

The  test  of  truth,  love,  — sole  philosopher  1 

Byron’s  Childe  Ilarola 
Years  steal 

Fire  from  the  mind,  as  vigour  from  the  limb. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold, 

Art  is  long,  and  time  is  fleeting. 

And  our  hearts,  though  stout  and  brave, 

Still  like  muffled  drums  are  beating 
Funeral  marches  to  the  grave. 

H.  W.  Longfellow 

Like  the  swell  of  some  sweet  tune, 

Morning  rises  into  noon. 

May  glides  onward  into  June. 

H.  W.  Longfellow 

Time,  the  tomb-builder,  holds  his  fierce  career, 

Dark,  stern,  and  pitiless,  and  pauses  not 
Amid  the  mighty  rocks  that  strew  his  path. 

To  sit  and  muse,  like  other  conquerors. 

Upon  the  fearful  ruin  he  hath  wrought. 

G.  D.  PRENTiri? 

Compar’d  with  thee,  even  centuries  in  their  might 
Seem  but  like  atoms  in  the  sun’s  broad  ray ; 

Thou  sweep’st  them  on  in  thy  majestic  flight. 

Scattering  them  from  thy  plumes  like  drops  of  ipray 
Cast  from  the  ocean  in  its  scornful  play. 

Mrs.  Amelia  B.  Weluy. 


490 


TIMIDITY  - TITLES  - TOKEN. 


While  systems  change,  and  suns  retire,  and  worlds 
Slumber  and  wake — Time’s  ceaseless  march  proceeds. 

II.  Warm, 


TIMIDITY. 

Noy  less  was  she  in  heart  affected. 

But  that  she  masked  it  with  modesty, 

For  fear  she  should  of  lightness  be  detected. 

Spenser’s  Fair^  Queen, 

Ilow  long  must  I conceal 

\\  hat  yet  my  heart  could  wish  were  known? 

How  long  the  truest  passion  ffel, 

And  yet  that  passion  fear  to  own  ? 

Cartwright. 

Hard  is  the  fate  of  him  who  loves, 

Yet  dares  not  tell  his  trembling  pain. 

Thomson. 

The  half-suppress’d  glance  of  an  eye  admiring, 

The  tremulous  rays  of  an  evening  sky  — 

The  startled  fawn  from  the  hunter  retiring  — 

The  fluttering  light  of  a taper  expiring, 

A pt  emblems  afford  of  timidity. 

Elliot 


TITLE  S. — (See  Ancestry.) 


TOKEN. 

Accept  of  this;  and  could  I add  beside 
What  wealth  the  rich  Peruvian  mountains  hide  ; 

If  all  the  gems  in  eastern  rocks  were  mine, 

On  thee  alone  their  glittering  pride  should  shine. 

LyTTI  ETON. 

She  knew  whose  hand  had  gather’d  them;  she  knew 
Whose  sigh  and  touch  were  on  their  scent  and  hue. 

Picks  RSGiLf. 


TORTT'KE  - TOWN,  &c 


491 


All  tne  tokon-f^owers  that  tell 
What  worir:  cae  never  speak  so  well. 

Bvron 

As  a slight  token  of  esteem, 

Accept  these  howers  from  me ; 

So  fair  -dZii  lovely,  they  do  seem 
An  emblem  true  of  thee. 

Bnt  soon  these  fragile  flowers  wiL  fade 
And  wither  — ’t  is  their  doom  : 

May  you,  unlike  them,  be  array’d 
In  a perpetual  bloom  ! 

J.  I\  Watsow 


TORTURE.  — (See  Cruelty.) 


TOWN  AND  COUNTRY.  — (See  Rural 


TRANSPORT.  — (See  Ecstasy.) 


TRAVELLER. 

Me  other  cares  in  other  climes  engage. 

Cares  that  become  my  birth,  and  suit  my  age ; 

In  various  knowledge  to  instruct  my  youth, 

And  conquer  prejudice,  worst  foe  to  truth  ; 

By  foreign  arts,  domestic  faults  to  mend. 

Enlarge  my  notions,  and  my  views  extend ; 

The  useful  science  of  the  world  to  knov^ 

Which  books  can  never  teach,  nor  pedants  sho%¥. 

LvTrirTow 

Returning,  he  proclaims  by  many  a grace, 

By  shrugs,  and  strange  contortions  of  his  face., 

How  much  a dunce,  that  has  been  sent  to  roatn, 

Excels  a dunce  that  has  been  kept  at  home. 

Co  wiper’s  Progrens  of  Erro'i 


492 


TREACHERY. 


He  travels  and  expatiates ; ds  the  bee 
From  flower  to  flower,  so  1 c from  land  to  lanJ. 

The  manners,  customs,  policies  of  all, 

F^ay  contribution  to  the  store  he  gleans : 

He  sucks  intelligence  in  every  clime, 

And  spreads  the  honey  of  his  deep  research 
At  his  return  — a rich  repast  for  me. 

Cowper’s  V’oi*. 

But  every  fool  describes,  in  these  bright  days, 

His  wondrous  journey  to  some  .fl3reign  court. 

And  spawns  his  quarto,  and  demands  your  praise  ; 

Death  to  his  publisher,  to  him ’t  is  sport. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan. 

And  he,  who ’s  doom’d  o’er  waves  to  roam. 

Or  wander  on  a foreign  strand. 

Will  sigh  whene’er  he  thinks  of  home. 

And  better  love  his  native  land. 

William  Legoett. 


TREACHERY. 

Stealing  her  soul  with  many  vows  of  faith, 

And  ne’er  a true  one. 

Shakspeare. 

He  is  compos’d  and  fram’d  of  treachery 

Shakspeare. 

He,  in  whom 

My  heart  had  treasur’d  all  its  boast  and  pride, 

Proves  faithless. 

Euripides 

Ob  ! colder  than  the  wind  that  freezes 
Founts,  that  but  now  in  sunshine  play’d, 

Is  that  congealing  pang,  which  seizes 
Tbc‘  trusting  bosom  when  betray’d. 


Moore. 


TREASON  - TRIUMPH  - VICTORY. 


493 


TREASON. 

The  man  was  noble, 

But  with  his  last  attempt  he  wip’d  it  out, 

Betray’d  his  country ; and  his  name  remains 
T 0 the  ensuing  age,  abhorr’d. 

ShAKSPEaRE 

Treason  and  murder  ever  kept  together. 

As  two  yoke-devils  sworn  to  cither’s  purpose. 

Shakspeare, 

Is  there  not  some  chosen  curse, 

Some  hidden  thunder  in  the  stores  of  heaven, 

Red  with  uncommon  wrath,  to  blast  the  man 
Who  owes  his  greatness  to  his  country’s  ruin  ? 

Addison’s  Cata 

Treason  does  never  prosper ; what’s  the  reason  ? 

Why,  when  it  prospers,  none  dare  call  it  treason. 

O ! for  a tongue  to  curse  the  slave, 

Whose  treason,  like  a deadly  blight, 

Comes  o'er  the  councils  of  the  brave, 

To  blast  them  in  their  hour  of  might ! 

Moope’s  Lalla  Rookh, 


TRIUMPH  — VICTORY. 

• O,  such  a day. 

So  fought,  so  follow’d,  and  so  fairly  won, 

Came  not  till  now,  to  dignify  the  times, 

Since  C?esar’s  fortunes. 

Suaksfeark. 

The  harder  match’d,  the  greater  victory. 

Shakspearr 

Slowdy  he  falls,  amid  triumphing  cries  ; 

Without  a groan,  without  a struggle,  dies. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold. 


494 


TRUTH -TYRANNY,  ^ 


It  is  not  victory  to  win  the  tield, 

Unless  we  make  our  enemies  to  yield 
More  to  our  justice  than  our  force  ; and  so 
As  well  instruct,  as  overcome  our  foe. 

GoMERfcALl 

Cap.sar  himseK.  could  never  say 
He  got  two  victories  in  one  day, 

As  I have  done,  that  can  say,  twice  I, 

In  one  day,  veni,  vidi,  vici!'^ 

Butler’s  Hudihrai 

The  God  of  Battles  smil’d  — Justice  triumph’d  ; 

The  Stars  and  Stripes,  Columbia’s  sacred  Flag, 

Like  eagles’  pinions  flutter’d  to  the  breeze ; 

And  the  Red  Lion,  haughty  Britain’s  emblem, 
Lhscomforted,  went  howling  back  with  rage. 

To  lair  amidst  the  white  cliffs  of  Albion. 

J.  T.  Watson 


TRUTH.  — (See  Falsehooi*.) 


TYRANNY.  — (See  Oppression.) 


UNANIMITY. 

m 

There  are  two  hearts  whose  movements  thrill 
In  unison  so  closely  sweet, 

That  pulse  to  pulse,  responsive  still 

They  both  must  heave — or  cease  to  beat. 

Babton. 

There  are  two  souls  whose  equal  flow 
In  gentle  streams  so  calmly  run, 

That  when  they  part — they  part  1 ah,  no  1 
They  cannot  part — their  souls  are  one  I 


Barton. 


' UNBELIEF  - VANITY,  &C. 


495 


Each  was  the  other’s  mirror,  and  but  read 
Joy  sparkling  in  their  dark  eyes,  like  a gem; 

And  knew  each  brightness  was  but  the  reflection 
Of  their  unchanging  glances  of  affection. 

Byron. 

UNBELIEF— r (See  Scepticism.) 


VANITY.  — (See  Pride.) 

VARIETY. 

Wherefore  did  nature  pour  her  bounties  forth 
With  such  a full  and  un\Vithd rawing  hand, 

Covering  the  earth  with  odours,  fruits,  and  flocks, 

But  all  to  please  and  sate  the  curious  taste  ? 

Milton’s  Cornns. 

The  earth  was  made  so  various,  that  the  mind 
Of  desultory  man,  studious  of  change 
And  pleas’d  with  novelty,  might  be  indulg’d. 

Cowper’s  Task. 

Variety’s  the  source  of  joy  below, 

From  which  still  fresh  revolving  pleasures  flow; 

In  books  and  love,  the  mind  one  end  pursues. 

And  only  change  the  expiring  flame  renews. 

Gay’s  Epistles, 

— No  sweet  bird, 

That  beats  the  pathless  void,  but  pours  new  notes, 
Distinct  from  every  plumy  rival’s  song. 

Aaron  Hill 

Countless  the  various  species  of  mankind, 

Countless  the  shades  which  sep’rate  mind  from  mind ; 

No  general  object  of  desire  is  known  ; 

Each  has  his  will,  and  each  pursues  his  own. 

Gifford’s  Perseiu 


496 


VENGEANCE  VICE,  <v,o. 


V E N G E A N C E.  - ■ (Sco  Rkvenqb,) 


VICE.  — (Sec  Gctilt.) 
VICISSITC  DK  —(See  ChangiA 
V I C T 0 R V.  — Triumph  ) 
VIRTUE.  — (See  Prayer.) 


WANT.  — (See  Poverty.) 


WAR.  — (See  Battle.) 


WEALTH.  — (See  Gold.' 


WEATHER.  — (See  Clouds.) 


WEDLOCK  — (See  Matrimony.) 


WEEPING.  — (See  Tears.) 


WIDOW.  — (See  Funeral. 


WIFE. 

lliey  seek  lor  rule,  supremacy,  and  sway, 

When  iney  are  bound  to  serve,  love,  and  obey 

Shakspearb 

A v/ife  ! Ah,  gentle  deities  ! can  he 
W ho  has  a wife,  e’er  feel  adversity  ? 

Pope 


WIFE. 


497 


You  are  my  true  and  honourable  wife ; 

As  dear  to  me  as  are  the  ruddy  drops 
That  visit  my  sad  heart. 

Shaksfearje 

Such  duty  as  the  subject  owes  the  prince. 

Even  such  a woman  oweth  to  her  husband : 

And  when  she ’s  fro  ward,  peevish,  sullen,  sour, 

What  is  she  but  a foul,  contending  rebel, 

And  graceless  traitor  to  her  loving  lord  ? 

Shakspeare 

She  who  ne’er  answers  till  a husband  cools, 

And,  if  she  rules  him,  never  shows  she  rules; 

Charms  by  accepting,  by  submitting  sways, 

Yet  has  her  humour  most  when  she  obeys. 

Pope. 

Think  you,  if  Laura  had  been  Petrarch’s  wife, 

He  would  have  written  sonnets  all  his  life  ? 

Byron’s  Don  Jxian. 

When  envy’s  sneer  would  coldly  blight  his  name. 

And  busy  tongues  are  sporting  with  his  fame. 

Who  solves  each  doubt,  clears  every  mist  away, 

And  makes  him  radiant  in  the  face  of  day  ? 

She,  who  would  peril  fortune,  fame,  and  life, 

For  man,  the  ingrate  — the  devoted  wife. 

To  share  existence  with  her,  and  to  gain 
Sparks  from  her  love’s  electrifying  chain. 

Campbell. 

When  on  thy  bosom  I recline. 

Enraptur’d  still  to  call  thee  mine. 

To  call  thee  mine  for  life, 

I glory  in  the  sacred  ties, 

Which  modern  wits  and  fools  dcvspise, 
f)f  husband  and  of  wife. 


32 


Lindiey  Murray 


498 


WINE- WINTER,  &.c. 


Say,  shall  I love  the  fading  beautv  less. 

Whose  spring-time  radiance  has  fjeen  wholly  mine  ? 

No  — come  what  will,  thy  steadfast  truth  1 ’ll  bless, 
in  youth,  in  age  thine  own  — for  ever  thine  t 

A.  A.  Watti 


WINE.  — (See  Drinking.) 


WINTER.  — (See  Autumn.) 


WISDOM.  — (See  Education.) 
WIT.  — (See  Education.) 


WITCHES. 

What  are  these, 

So  wither’d  and  so  wild  in  their  attire, 

That  look  not  like  the  inhabitants  o’  the  earth. 

And  yet  are  on ’t. 

Shakspearhs 

How  now,  you  secret,  black,  and  midnight  hags  ? 

What  is  ’t  you  do  ? 

Shakspeahb. 

Ye  spirits  of  the  unbounded  universe  ! 

Whom  1 have  sought  in  darkness  and  in  shaUe, — 

Ye,  who  do  compass  earth  about,  and  dwell 
In  subtler  essence  — ye,  to  whom  the  tops 
Of  mountains  inaccessible  are  haunts, 

And  earth's  and  ocean’s  caves  familiar  things  — 

I call  upon  ye,  by  the  written  charm 

Which  gives  me  power  upon  you  — rise  ! appear  ! 

Byron’s  Mortjifd 


WOMAN. 


499 


WOMAN. 

For  several  virtues 
S have  lik^u  several  women ; never  any 
With  so  fun  a soul,  but  some  defect  in  hei 
DiJ  quarrel  with  the  noblest  grace  she  own’d, 

And  put  it  to  a foil. 

Shaksf'sar^. 

We  cannot  fight  for  love,  as  men  may  do  ; 

We  should  be  woo’d,  and  were  not  made  to  woo. 

Sn.-iJs:JFEA;!E. 

I have  no  other  but  a woman’s  reason  ; 

I think  him  so,  because  I think  him  so. 

Shaksphauz. 

For  women  first  were  made  for  men, 

Not  men  for  them.  It  follows,  then, 

Men  have  a right  to  every  one, 

And  they  no  freedom  of  their  own ; 

And  therefore  men  have  power  to  choose, 

But  they  no  charter  to  refuse. 

Butler’s  Hudibras. 

In  men  we  various  ruling  passions  find ; 

In  women,  two  almost  divide  the  kind : 

Those  only  fix’d,  they  first  or  last  obey, 

The  love  of  pleasure,  and  the  love  of  sway. 

Pope’s  Moral  Jbssay^  , 
When  love  once  pleads  admission  to  our  hearts, 

In  spite  of  all  the  virtue  we  can  boast, 

The  woman  that  deliberates  is  lost. 

Addison’s  Cato. 

Seek  to  be  good,  but  aim  not  to  be  great : 

A woman’s  noblest  station  is  retreat ; 

Her  fairest  virtues  fly  from  public  sight, 

Domestic  worth,  that  shuns  too  strong  a light. 

Lord  Lyttleton 


500 


WOMAl^. 


1 sue,  and  sue  in  vain  ; il  is  most  just : 

When  women  sue,  they  sue  to  be  denied. 

VoTLVO 

Fee-simple  and  a simple  fee, 

And  all  the  fees  in  tad 
Are  nothing  when  compar’d  to  thee, 

Thou  best  of  fees  — fe-male. 


Fleaven  L’ts  no  rage  like  love  to  hatred  turn’d, 

And  hell  no  fury  like  a woman  scorn’d. 

Congreve’s  Mourning  Bridt 
0 woman,  lovely  woman  1 Nature  made  thee 
To  temper  man : we  had  been  brutes  without  thee  ! 

Otways’s  Ve7i{ce  Preserved. 
O woman  ! dear  woman  ! whose  form  and  whose  soul 
Are  the  light  and  the  life  of  each  spell  we  pursue, — 
Whether  sunnM  in  the  tropics,  or  chill’d  at  the  pole, 

If  woman  be  there,  there  is  happiness  too  ! 

Moore. 

Oh,  say  not  woman’s  false  as  fair, 

That,  like  the  bee,  she  ranges. 

Still  seeking  flowers  more  sweet  and  fair, 

As  fickle  fancy  changes. 

Ah,  no ! the  love,  that  first  can  warm, 

Will  leave  her  bosom  never; 

No  second  passion  e’er  can  charm  — 

She  loves,  and  loves  for  ever. 

Povlu'K. 

Woman  ! blest  partner  of  our  joys  a^.d  woes  \ 

Even  in  the  darkest  hour  of  earihiy  .11, 

Un tarnish’d  yet  thy  fond  affection  glows^ 

Throbs  with  each  pulse,  and  beats  with  every  thrill ! 
When  sorrow  rends  the  heart,  when  feverish  pain 
Wrings  the  hot  drops  of  a!<guish  from  the  brow, 

To  soothe  the  soul,  to  cool  the  burning  brain, 

Oh  1 who  so  welcome  and  so  prompt  as  thou  ? 

Yamoydeh. 


WOMAN. 


501 


The  lords  of  creation  men  we  call, 

And  they  think  they  rule  the  whole; 

But  t^'ey  ’re  much  mistaken,  after  all. 

For  the}’^  ’re  undsr  woman’s  control. 

Woman’s  love. 

Its  fondness  wide  as  the  limitless  wave. 

And  chainless  by  aught  but  the  silent  grave. 

With  devotion  as  humble  as  that  which  brings 
To  his  idols  the  Indian’s  offerings. 

Yet  proud  as  that  which  the  priestess  feels, 

When  she  nurses  the  flame  of  the  shrine  where  she  kneek 

Mrs.  E.  C.  Embury 
I would  as  soon  attempt  to  entice  a star 
To  perch  upon  my  finger ; or  the  wind 
To  follow  me  like  a dog  — as  think  to  keep 
A woman’s  heart  again. 

" Bailey’?  Festus 

Away,  away  — you  ’re  all  the  same, 

A fluttering,  smiling,  jilting  throng  ! 

Oh  ! by  my  soul,  I burn  with  shame. 

To  think  I ’ve  been  your  slave  so  long  ! 

Moore. 

Oh  ! woman  wrong’d  can  cherish  hate 
More  deep  and  dark  than  manhood  may, 

But  when  the  mockery  of  fate 
Hath  left  revenge  its  chosen  way. 

Still  lingers  something  of  the  spell 

Which  bound  her  to  the  traitor’s  bosom,  — 

Still,  ’mid  the  vengeful  fires  of  hell. 

Seme  flowers  of  old  affection  blossom. 

J.  G Whittier 

Oh  woman  ! subtle,  lovely,  faithless  sex  ! 

Born  to  enchant,  thou  studiest  to  perplex ; 

Ador’d  as  queen,  thou  play’st  the  tyrant's  part. 

And,  taught  to  govern,  would’st  enslave  the  heart ! 

R.  T Paisr 


502 


WONDER- WORDS. 


The  man,  who  sets  his  heart  upon  a woman. 

Is  a chameleon,  and  doth  feed  on  air : 

From  air  he  takes  his  colours,  holds  his  life  — 

Changes  with  every  wind  — grows  lean  or  fat  - - 
Rosy  wuh  hope,  or  green  with  jealousy, 

Or  pallid  with  despair  — just  as  the  gale 
Varies  from  north  to  south  — from  heat  to  cold! 

Bulwer’s  Lady  of  Lyon» 
*Tis  woman’s  smiles  that  lull  our  cares  to  rest, 

Dear  woman’s  charms,  that  give  to  life  its  zest ; 

’T  is  woman’s  hand  that  smoothes  affliction’s  bed, 

Wipes  the  cold  sweat,  and  stays  the  sinking  head ! 


WONDER 

They  spake  not  a word, 

But,  like  dumb  statues,  or  breathless  stones, 

Star’d  on  each  other,  and  look’d  deadly  pale. 

Shakspeare. 

And  when  they  talk  of  him,  they  shake  their  heads. 

And  whisper  one  another  in  the  ear ; 

And  he  that  speaks  doth  gripe  the  hearer’s  wrist. 

And  he  that  hears  makes  fearful  action. 

With  wrinkled  brow,  with  nods,  with  rolling  eyes. 

Shakspeare. 

What  mighty  contests  rise  from  trivial  things ! 

Pops 

A tale  more  strange  ne’er  grac’d  the  poet’s  art. 

And  ne’er  did  fiction  play  so  wild  a part. 

Tickell 


WORDS. 

What  you  keep  oy  you,  you  may  change  and  mend ; 
But  words,  once  spoke,  can  never  be  recall’d. 


RoscoMMon. 


WORLD. 


503 


W’ords  are  the  soul’s  ambassadors,  wnich  go 
Abroad  upon  her  errands  to  and  fro ; 

They  are  the  sole  expounders  of  the  mind, 

And  correspondence  keep  ’twixt  ad  mankind. 

James  Howst 

But  words  are  things ; and  a small  drop  of  ink, 

Falling  like  dew  upon  a thought,  produces 

Thai  which  makes  thousands,  perhaps  millions,  think. 

Byron’s  Don  Juan, 


WORLD. 

All  the  world ’s  a stage ; 

And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  players : 

They  have  their  exits  and  their  entrances ; 

And  one  man  in  his  turn  plays  many  parts. 

Shakspeare 

The  world  is  a great  dance,  in  which  we  find 
The  good  and  bad  have  various  turns  assign’d ; 

But  when  they ’ve  ended  the  great  masquerade, 

One  goes  to  glory,  th’  other  to  a shade. 

Crown 

The  world ’s  a stormy  sea. 

Whose  every  breath  is  strew’d  with  wrecks  of  wretches. 
That  daily  perish  in  it. 

IIOV/E 

The  world  is  a well-furnish’d  table. 

Where  guests  are  promiscuously  set : 

Where  all  fare  as  well  as  they  ’re  able. 

And  scramble  for  what  they  can  get. 

Bickerstaff 

’T  is  pleasant,  through  the  loopholes  of  retreat. 

To  peep  at  such  a world  ; to  see  the  stir 
Of  the  great  Babel,  and  not  feel  the  crowd  ; 

To  hear  the  roar  she  sends  through  all  her  gates, 

At  a safe  distance,  where  the  dying  sound 
Falls  a soft  munnui  on  th’  uninjur’d  ear. 


Cowper’s  lask 


504 


WORTH- WRITERS, 


A world,  where  lust  of  pleasure,  grandeur,  gold, — 

Three  demons  that  divide  its  realms  between  them  — 

With  strokes  alternate  buffet  to  and  fro 
Man’s  restless  heart,  their  sport,  their  flying  ball. 

Young’s  Night  Thoughts 
What  is  this  world  ? 

What  — but  a spacious  burial-field  un wall’d, 

Strew’d  with  death’s  spoils,  the  spoils  of  animals, 

Savage  and  tame,  and  full  of  dead  men’s  bones  ? 

The  very  turf  on  which  we  tread,  once  liv’d ; 

And  we,  that  live,  must  lend  our  carcasses 
To  cover  our  own  offspring : in  their  turns 
They  too  must  cover  theirs  1 

Blair’s  Gram 

This  world  is  all  a fleeting  show, 

For  man’s  illusion  given ; 

The  smiles  of  joy,  the  tears  of  wo, 

Deceitful  shine,  deceitful  flow  ; 

There ’s  nothing  true  but  Heaven. 

Moore 

Yes,  fair  as  the  syren,  but  false  as  her  song. 

Are  the  world’s  painted  shadows,  that  lure  us  along ; 

Like  the  mist  on  the  mountain,  the  foam  on  the  deep. 

Or  the  voices  of  friends  that  we  greet  in  our  sleep. 

Are  the  pleasures  of  earth. 

Mrs.  S.  J Halh. 
WORTH — (See  Excellence.) 


WRITERS.  — (See  Authors.) 


WRONG.  (See  Injury.) 


YOUTH.  — (See  Childhood.) 


ZEAL  — (See  Enthusiasm.) 


T H R END 


A 


